The ZPM Equation
by Cairis Rin
Summary: Stargate Numb3rs cross. Faced with some near impossible math, McKay thinks of an old childhood friend for help. More numb3rs than stargate. Have fun.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I neither own Stargate or Numb3rs. Woot. I write this for fun, and nothing else.

Author's Note: This a cross between Stargate, around the time of early Atlantis season four, and Numb3rs, around the time of early season four. It's more of a numb3rs fic than a stargate fic, but I hope you enjoy it regardless of what fandom you follow.

I'm seriously not supposed to be writing fanfic right now, but this beastie screamed to come out this week. So I wrote it all up, and I'm posting it all at once, and I've done a quick edit so the grammar should be fine, and now I'm going to go back to what I'm _supposed_ to be working on.

And if the science isn't exact, well, okay…it's a _fanfic_ people! A fanfic!

Thanks in advance to everyone who takes the time to read it.

x.x.x.x.x

Rodney McKay glowered at the whiteboards. Actually, at this point, he was glowering at anything and everyone that dared to come near him. Which wasn't many. Noticeably, his lab had quickly become vacant of its usual occupants over the last couple weeks. If Rodney took the time to think about it, he probably wouldn't blame them, but right now he was just glad to be alone.

Every space, ever chair except his own, had been stolen for his use, because as much as it always seemed easier to display the problem on the multiple computer screens his rather sizable lab contained, Rodney found suddenly it wasn't enough. He had to _see_ it in its entirety. Every aspect of the problem, every possible variation.

He figured he had every whiteboard Atlantis owned, but still it wasn't enough. Rodney had finally resorted to stealing from their small supply of paper, taping the sheets together and hanging them from the edges of desks, walls, whatever he could find to use.

To say it had become a small obsession of his was an understatement. But it was one of the most important obsessions a genius of his caliber could possibly have. They couldn't keep bouncing around the Pegasus galaxy without a reliable power source. At the rate they were going, and they certainly seemed to get in trouble enough to help matters along, they'd drain the energy they had faster than they could find it.

It all had to do with the ZedPMs. Even the Asgard's power source now entrusted to Earth with the Asgard's destruction wasn't a comparison to a ZedPM's power abilities. If the Ancients could make a ZedPM, they why oh why couldn't they?

As Sheppard would say, there were a lot of things the Ancients could do that they can't…yet. But Rodney's ego wouldn't allow for that kind of thinking. He was the smartest man in the galaxy, for certain in this galaxy of people's who's technology had been stunted by the Wraith. And, he was pretty sure, if he wasn't the smartest man from Earth, he was in the top three.

But no matter how he looked at the problem, he just couldn't figure it out.

What made things worse, was know he'd been the one to actually write the problem out in the first place. Due to an unfortunate accident, Rodney had first almost become an Ancient, long enough to spit several new equations out, only to loose any idea of what he'd been trying to say. Half of the symbols on the boards didn't even make sense. They were complete gibberish!

Even after six months of trying to figure them out.

Rodney glowered again, his hands searching for his long forgotten coffee cup as he stared at the board and it's current set of possible interpretations. If only he could figure out what the new math expressions represented.

"Rodney?"

"Umm?" He looked up to see Colonel Samantha Carter walk in, looking around with that half worried look she got sometimes, usually when she was about to reprimand him for something. He took a sip of the cold coffee only to spit it out again. He turned his glower on the offensive cup but then immediately refocused on the board. Numbers and equations and possibilities spread through his mind like a swarm of bees. He could multitask better than anyone, even her.

Rodney had known Samantha Carter back in the early days of the stargate program, had heard and admired her work even before then. She'd only been a Major then, now she was a full bird Colonel, in charge of this entire city, and still the best astrophysicist he'd ever met…aside from him of course, although his skills actually lay more in engineering physics rather than astro. In this job one quickly learned to broaden their field.

As the smartest _woman_ from Earth, Rodney knew she did more than just see the whiteboards. Like him, he was sure she could see the math, too. "Still working on it, huh?" She questioned, trying to sound light even as her eyes roamed around the room, squinting with both the fascination of a fellow scientist, and the worry of a CO.

Rodney wasn't military, but neither was most of Atlantis, and it didn't make a difference anymore. Not out here, not where your lives seemed to hang in the balance everyday. "Something I can do for you, Colonel?" Rodney tersely asked.

"Rodney, come on. You need to take a break."

"No," he shook his head. "No, I'm on to something. I've got to think this through. People really should just leave me alone."

"Yes, and they have, for two weeks now. I know you're worried-"

"Stop!" Rodney sharply cut her off. "This had nothing to do with that." But the sudden pain in his chest betrayed him. Still, he continued on, "Atlantis needs this. We can't keep surviving without ZedPMs. Not with our odds. What are we supposed to do, keep stealing them from the Replicators? What if the Wraith win the war? What if we never find anymore."

"Rodney, we have a ZPM. Atlantis isn't in any danger."

"Not now, but what about in the future? What if we need to take the city into space again? Look at what happened last time? Are you going to tell me that's not going to happen again? No, Sam, we need this!"

She was quiet for a few minutes. "Do you really think you can solve it?"

And Rodney knew in that instant that she was analyzing him. His abilities, his time, his reasons for being here. Rodney knew he'd chased everyone out of his lab. _His_ lab. It actually belong to his department, not a small number of people who not only put up with him, but worked with him. The problem was, normally this was really _their_ lab because most of the time he was out on missions. It was such a different life than the one he'd imagined, even when he'd been working in Area 51, or in the Antarctic when Elizabeth Weir had first recruited him to head up all the science divisions. Technically, Zelenka had control of half of them now, but that hadn't always been the case.

And then there was the true issue he knew Sam was really weighing in her mind. As part of Sheppard's team they often got in trouble. Hell, Rodney had actually been shot in butt with an arrow once. It was a miracle he'd escaped their last adventure with only minor injuries. Only, the rest of the team hadn't. He'd heard Sheppard had finally been let out of bed, but Teyla and Ronon…

Rodney shook his head. "Of course I can," he snapped, answering her question. "If people would just leave me alone!"

"Rodney."

It didn't take much to make him wilt. Not from her. Both her and Sheppard had that ability. A single word and suddenly it was as if his ego had been crushed under the weight of his worries. How they did it he didn't know. It was probably some secret military training.

Sinking into his chair Rodney frowned. "Well it's not like I haven't solved it once before. For goodness sake, I wrote it!" He sighed. "I should have left notes for myself or something."

"You probably wouldn't understand them even if you had," she gently told him, leaning against the counter of the desk. "Ronon woke up today. You should go see him."

"And say what?"

"They're worried about you. We all are. And I know you're worried about them, but they're going to be fine. There was nothing you could do to stop what happened."

And once again she'd come right to root of the situation. His logical mind had told him this over and over again. There was no possible way he could have known what the machine did. No possible way to know the energy source wasn't just an energy source, but a living entity existing in multiple dimensions. No possible way to predict when things would go so completely sour. He should have been in the room with them. He should have been there. He should have figured everything out before the entity had manifested.

Doctor Keller had told him that they weren't dead, they weren't in a coma, and they weren't actually hurt, but it hadn't helped. And in the end, even after sorting everything out, there was nothing they could do but wait for them to wake up. They knew the rest would come out of their seemingly sleeping trance on their own. What had happened would pass, and as most alien encounters went, they were learning things the hard way. Which was why Rodney had felt so much need to fix this problem. They couldn't possibly protect themselves from everything, but with a ready supply of ZedPMs they at least had a fighting chance against most of the terrors the universe seemed to contain.

Too much time not normally spent standing still, or worse, filled with worry, had driven him to this problem. Obsessions like this hadn't happened as often as they used to, especially with the usual weekly demands of saving the day on his shoulders, but it was a great escape. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to admit it.

Rodney sighed. "I guess I should go see him." Sam smiled encouragingly, which normally could brighten even Rodney's worst moods, but a thought had suddenly struck the scientist. "You know. I know I _could_ solve this. Of course I could, I'm me."

"But?" she slowly asked with a frown.

"Well, with all the demands on my abilities, I just don't have the time to devote to it." Her frown deepened, but Rodney was actually feeling a bit of excitement return. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more the idea seemed perfect. With a cocky smile he told her, "I do however, know someone who _does_ have the time. And the brain to crack this." He actually found himself smiling, old fond memories surfacing from a long forgotten past. "He's no physicist, but he has a way with numbers even I can't match."

Now she really looked disturbed, and startled. Sometimes Rodney started himself. It took a lot for his ego to admit someone else's talents, but this someone held a special place in Rodney's childhood.

She finally had to ask. "Who?"

He grinned even harder. "A brilliant mathematician by the name of Charlie Eppes."

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie Eppes sat at the table looking over his father's homework. His father wasn't in any of the classes Charlie taught, much as he might wish, he was taking an engineering course instead, and Charlie was the Professor of Applied Mathematics, but he liked looking over his dad's work anyway.

The math was different, used more for structure and stability, and in Charlie's case wasn't even at a beginner's level, but the very act of helping his dad was something he really enjoyed.

It wasn't as if he didn't have his own student's papers sitting on the table next to him waiting to be reviewed, they just didn't have the same appeal of this.

A cheer went up from the other occupants in the room and Charlie looked up to see that one of the Dodgers must have just hit a homerun. His brother and his dad were on the couch watching a game Charlie had no interest in past a mild curiosity with the statistics, but it was still nice to have them all in the same room. Charlie couldn't help but smile. It was still amazing to him how different things had become. That they even had moments like these at all was a statistic rarity. Don's work didn't leave him much time for socializing, but his brother still dropped by whenever he could. Something that in and of itself never used to happen.

It was a hard reality that Charlie had to logically accept. Their mother's death had brought the family together again. Not only did they see each other more often, but also, Charlie helped Don with his FBI work on a frequent basis. It was as much a life-changing event for Charlie as it was a new thrill. To actually use his unique abilities with numbers and math to help Don catch real bad guys. It was so much more satisfying than even the work he'd once done for the NSA. There he'd still been an analyst. His algorithms and mathematical breakthroughs had increased their proficiency, and helped with issues of national security, but working for Don, Charlie felt like much more than just an analyst. Sometimes he even imagined himself to be part of Don's team. Not that he could, or _would_, want to help with a take down, or even half of the stuff Don did. He just liked knowing he was helping.

With a smile Charlie turned back to the work. It wouldn't take him long. The math really was very simple, and his dad rarely made few mistakes now. Writing a note of one problem, Charlie decided he'd wait till after the game to show his dad. He dad was really very adamant about learning how to do the math for himself, and he'd be distracted while the game was still on.

Chances were, Don would get called away again soon enough. Mentally Charlie kept a running tab of how often it really happened, creating a probability chart in his head based on various factors, like what kind of case Don had just finished, time of day, current rate of crime, and so forth. Something _always_ seemed to come up.

Usually it was a ring of his cell, but this time it was a knock at the door that interrupted things. Still watching the TV, Don got up, telling their Dad to stay sitting, he was closer. Still doing the math in his head, noting the new inconsistent factor, and working through the problem on the paper at the same time, Charlie glanced at the door as Don opened it.

On the other side stood someone Charlie had never seen before. And rather uncharacteristically for a traveling merchant, he had a computer laptop bag strapped across one shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Hello Agent Eppes. I'm Colonel Cameron Mitchell, with the Air Force. I need to talk to your brother."

"Okay," Don drawled out and Charlie suddenly turned in his seat, giving the man at the door a new look.

He'd worked long enough with Don now to know when his brother was suspicious, and Charlie guessed he should be, too, but his curiosity was too high. He got up and walked to the door. "What can I do for you?"

"Professor Eppes, mind if I come in?" The Colonel gave him a genuine smile, but he wasn't in dress blues, and his brother tensed.

If there was anything Charlie had learned in the last three years, it was that he couldn't let curiosity make him naïve, not anymore. "Mind if I see some ID?"

"Of course," and the Colonel pulled it out ready to show. Charlie took it and looked at it with a calculating eye with Don doing the same over his shoulder. His brother seemed to relax some and Charlie took that as a good enough sign that this wasn't some kind of strange trap. That he even thought of things like that now proved just how much he'd grown. At least, that's what he liked to believe. He handed the ID back and stepped away from the door, indicating the Colonel could follow.

"What's this about?" Charlie asked, leading the man to the table. Don followed, keeping a cautious eye on the Colonel, and Charlie realized his dad had put the game on mute.

"It's a mater of National Security," the Colonel stated lightly, even smiling. "We have a math problem and we've been told you're the best Mathematician around."

Charlie felt a small rush from the praise, but modestly told him, "I don't know about that."

"No, it's true," Don suddenly stated, but he still looked like he was defending Charlie, Charlie just wasn't sure from what.

"Well," his father suddenly said, "Charlie, I can see you're going to be busy for a bit, so I'm going to go watch the game in the other room."

"Actually, Mr. Eppes," the Colonel said, stopping him. "I need to talk to all three of you."

Don crossed his arms, and giving the man a guarded look, dryly asked, "I thought this was a math problem?"

"It is. If we can sit?"

Charlie moved the papers to one end and the Eppes family took seats across from the Air Force Colonel. "What's going on?"

"Professor Eppes," the Colonel began and Charlie impatiently cut him off.

"Just call me Charlie."

"Okay, Charlie," the Colonel started again, "I know you have extremely high security clearance, but this math problem is very sensitive material and not some quick problem. Normally, for you to work on it, you'd have to do so on base."

Charlie felt both his dad and Don suddenly tense up. It was a testament to just how much things had changed. He'd spent the better part of a year with the NSA, and at the time had rarely seen anything of his family. But now, now he was a professor, the head of Mathematics at CalSci, and he really liked working with Don and the FBI. He could see it on the Colonel's face, if he took this assignment he'd be out of contact with his family for a long time, quite possibly, a _very_ long time.

Charlie shook his head. "Then I doubt I can help you. I'm in the middle of too many projects to take on another."

"I know."

It wasn't the response Charlie was expecting. He'd worked with enough people on enough matters of National Security to know how it worked. _Their_ problem always came _first_. This Colonel wasn't very much like them, and even smiled with understanding.

"I've read your file and I know how important your current work is." The Colonel didn't have to go into details, it was all implied.

Don tapped the table. "They why did you come?" Trust him to ask the direct questions.

"I've read all your files, and it's been agreed that all three of you can be trusted with this specific issue."

"I have a file?" Charlie's dad asked with surprise. Don just frowned.

The Colonel continued, "What I'd like to propose it that with chaperoning, Charlie would be able to work on our math problem here, in his own time, without our interference."

"Chaperon?" Don questioned.

"I'd have to stay with him or more specifically, the materials. Of course, it wouldn't be logical for Charlie to work on the problem and not expose you both to the work, so I'd need you both to sign a confidential agreement."

Having someone around him…a chaperone, as the Colonel had put it, was certainly unconventional and even a bit disturbing, but something else nagged at Charlie. "I'm assuming others have looked at this problem. Even if I can solve it, and that's no guarantee, it might take some time."

The Colonel leaned back, his posture perpetually relaxed, almost as if he were on vacation. "We know, and if you agree to the contract, I promise to be a good house guest. You will be completely compensated for any extra cost of having me here."

Here, here in the house. Charlie looked at his family unsure what to do. He wouldn't even be allowed to look at the problem until the contract was signed, and like any scientist, the unknown pulled at him. "Dad? You live here, too."

"It's your house, Charlie. Whatever you want."

Don didn't say anything, but Charlie knew from the thinning of his lips that his brother was cautious. The contract would have to verified, and this Colonel's identity confirmed, but Charlie didn't think they'd find Colonel Mitchell or his business was false. As unconventional as his showing up on their doorstep was, Charlie had already come to the conclusion it wasn't a hoax. Weighing the pros and cons of taking an unknown assignment for the Air Force, Charlie finally consented to what his mind told him, and his curiosity overpowered.

"Okay. Let's see the contract."

The Colonel pulled several papers out of his bag, Don made several calls, and their dad made iced tea for everyone. After an hour not only had the Colonel's ID been confirmed, but the Secretary of Defense himself had called to confirm the validity of the situation. That had shocked Charlie, and unnerved his brother, though Don was trying his hardest not to show it.

At long last they signed the papers and went over the details.

"I promise, most of the time you won't even notice I'm here," the Colonel stated, once again brightly smiling. "Due to the sensitivity of the materials, I must ask that you only work on this here at the house. I'll be copying everything you do into this laptop." He pulled it out and put it on the table, flipping it open and turning it towards Charlie. There was one noticeable difference. A finger print scanner next to the mouse. "There are only two people who can turn it on, myself and you. Go ahead."

Charlie reached out and put his thumb on the scanner. A barely visible laser read his print and the computer booted up. "I don't really use a computer," he said somewhat distractedly.

"I know," the Colonel said, grinning again. He turned the screen back around, telling them, "This computer can not leave my sight, even in the house."

"Paranoid much?" Don asked, but Charlie knew from his tone of voice that his brother probably didn't actually think that.

The Colonel seemed to notice that as well, and with another grin replied, "Better safe than sorry."

"Good words to live by," Charlie's dad remarked.

All the paper work was done, all the details hammered out, Charlie could care less about the time of night, his curiosity was over flowing so much his leg had started to bounce with his impatience. "So what's the math problem?"

The Colonel hit the keyboard a few times and spun the screen back around to face Charlie. The moment his eyes saw the familiar symbols and numbers he was entranced. He scrolled down, noting where one equation lead to another and others that seemed to be part of the whole were actually self-contained, having an effect on the full problem and yet not.

This wasn't like any other problem he'd ever seen before. Certain elements were familiar, but more weren't. It even contained symbols he'd never seen before, although his genius mind told him they were extremely significant. There were two things that popped out at him almost immediately. Half the math was in base 8, and the other half in base ten. And then a moment later he realized why this was considered classified. It was an equation for a power source. A power source unlike anything the world had ever seen before.

"Where did this come from?"

"I can't tell you that."

Charlie heard his brother begin to protest, asking why they signed the confidential agreements if it wasn't going to get them useful information, but Charlie interrupted him. There was something else he needed to know if he was going to solve it. "Did it work? Who ever wrote this, could they make it work?"

There was silence, enough that Charlie had to tear his eyes away from the tantalizing screen to see what the Colonel was doing. Apparently, the Colonel had been waiting for him. "Yes."

Feeling a shiver run up his spine, Charlie sat back, forcing himself not to look at the numbers again just yet. Sensing the sudden change, his brother demanded. "Charlie, what is it?"

"It's a power source." He replied without thinking. He didn't know how strong a power source, not yet, but at the glance, Charlie was sure it was incredibly high. He forced himself to look at the Colonel. "What happened to the person who wrote this?"

For the first time the Colonel didn't look so relaxed. There was a seriousness in his eyes that troubled Charlie. Not the kind to make him fear the man, more the kind to know there were things even his high security clearance wasn't going to reveal. Leaning forward the Colonel somberly told them, "We know it works, but we don't know how. It's possible the equation is incomplete. It's certainly not translated, and the person who wrote it…well, he was on the brink of death at the time." Then the Colonel stated very seriously, "I can't tell you how, but this power source could save millions of lives. Professor Eppes, will you work on it?"

He'd already signed the contract, so legally he'd already agreed to the job. That the Colonel was asking again spoke volumes to Charlie. He took a breath and replied, "Yes." Then, just like that, his mind turned back to the screen and all the numbers it contained. It was almost more than even he could contain. "I've got to get this up where I can see it." He grabbed the laptop and headed for the garage.

Only a small part of his mind actually heard his brother complaining, saying to the Colonel, "Couldn't you have waited to show him that till morning?" Or registered the fact that the Colonel was only a couple steps behind him.

Right then, his mind only heard the numbers. And they were talking really loudly.

x.x.x.x.x

The next morning Special Agent Don Eppes woke with a start, realizing a moment later that the alarm had gone off. Groggy, he rolled out of bed and falling easily into his normal routine, searched the closet for clothes before making his way to the bathroom. He'd spent the time at Charlie's, not really wanting to go home, or more pointedly, not really wanting to leave Charlie alone with Colonel Mitchell.

He was lucky Charlie and his dad had never converted his old room into a study. Coming out after his shower, Don found the house still and quiet. It concerned him for a moment, his instincts naturally tense, but then he heard the usual sounds of someone in the kitchen, and going downstairs found his father also awake and already eating breakfast.

"Hey, dad."

"Don, going in early, aren't you?"

"Do I have a normal schedule?" Don jested with a slight smile. His father just huffed and Don helped himself to some coffee and a bagel. He actually _was_ going in a little early, but that's because he wanted to do a slightly more thorough search on this Colonel. Then, already knowing the answer, Don asked, "Where's Charlie?"

"Where do you think? He's still in the garage, been there all night no doubt." His father didn't seemed as perturbed by the matter as Don felt, but Alan had always had an easier time excepting Charlie's sometime eccentric habits.

Sitting down across from him, Don asked, "What do think of him? Mitchell?"

His dad shrugged. "Never had much love of the military, but he's polite enough."

For a man who used to be an active protester, this was a great accede. Don wasn't sure he was so gracious. "I hope this doesn't mean Charlie will be living out of the garage for the next couple months."

It was his biggest worry. He didn't understand the passion Charlie had sometimes, the obsession he got. He knew it wasn't harmful, knew that Charlie was working on several math problems he could never hope to even start to grasp, but every time his brother disappeared into the garage Don couldn't forget. He couldn't forget that barely four years ago Charlie had disappeared for three months into that garage, and at the time, nothing had gotten through to him. Logically, Don knew this was a completely different case. Then, their mother had been dying and throwing himself into math had been Charlie's way of dealing with it, only he _hadn't_ dealt, he'd escaped. This was different, he knew, but Don still couldn't forget.

His father, sensing his mood as only parents can, looked up at him with calculating eyes. "I happen to have it on very good account that you both can be quite obsessive at times. Your brother will be fine."

"Yeah," Don said, looking away but not really feeling relieved. "I've got to go. Bye dad." He downed his coffee, and taking his bagel with him headed out.

He'd half expected to find the Colonel asleep on the couch, but it didn't look touched, and unable to quell his concerns, Don took a peak into the garage. It was much as he expected it. The staccato of the chalk as it hit the chalkboards echoed in Don's head and he looked around for the first time at what had consumed his brother enough to keep him up through the night.

Numbers and symbols decorated every available space. Other than Charlie, the only piece of furniture left was a small round chair where the Colonel had settled, the laptop open on his legs. He looked tired, but Don guessed it wasn't the first sleepless night the Colonel had had before.

Stepping fully in, Don turned his back on the Colonel and asked his brother, "How's it going?"

"Um? Oh, fine, fine." It was a lie, but not because Charlie was trying to lie, he was just too completely distracted to give Don any attention right then. He'd been there before. "You should probably call Amita and have her cover your classes for you."

"Yes. That's good."

Don didn't know if Charlie meant it was a good idea, or if he was talking about the equation he was working on, or if he'd even heard Don. With a sigh, Don turned to leave. "I'll see you later, Charlie."

Charlie didn't reply, but mumbled, "There's just not enough room. I need more space to write."

The Colonel spoke for the first time, replying, "I could call a friend and have him bring us a few more chalkboards."

Don's step hesitated. The Colonel's friend? He couldn't help his suspicions. Even with things confirmed, or the amiable attitude of the Colonel, contrary to anything Don expected of a military officer, he just didn't like having him there. There, alone, with his brother. But he knew he was being unnecessarily paranoid, and so forced himself to keep walking.

Perhaps it was because his mind was distracted, but Don didn't really remember his trip to the office, only that he was suddenly there, at his desk, using the FBI computers to pull up everything he could about Air Force Colonel Cameron Mitchell.

"Hey boss, you been here a while?"

Don turned to look up as Megan came into his portion of the bullpen. She had an eyebrow raised in question and leaning back, Don told her, "I'm just checking up on someone."

"What's the case?"

"No case." He saw the look of surprise and curiosity on her face and explained, "Charlie's working with the Air Force on a problem."

"Oh, is he going to be gone long?"

He shook his head. "No, he's still here. They sent a liaison to work with him here."

Megan smiled, and Don knew her profiling mind had already guessed what was really going on. Sure enough, she said with some humor, "And you're checking the guy out to make sure he's not a threat."

Annoyed and a little irritated by her all too keen perception, Don defended himself, saying, "I just want to make sure he's on the up and up. Yeah, so it's a math problem, but that doesn't mean he's not putting Charlie at risk. I mean, this is a matter of National Security or some crap." Don said the last bit almost sarcastically.

"Don," Megan stated, putting a hand on his shoulder, "I think it's great that you're playing the protective big brother."

But this only annoyed Don more, probably because it was true. "You know, it's not just that. This guy, most of his record is blacked out, he's Special Forces, I know it. And more than that, not only does he have the highest possible military security clearance, he's got the highest _National_ Security Clearance. This guy has a get in free pass with every single government facility in this country."

"What?" Now Megan was getting it, and she leaned over his shoulder to see just what he himself had discovered. "What kind of math problem is it?"

Don almost groaned. "I'm not allowed to talk about it." Honestly, he'd already talked too much, but Megan wasn't one to nose things around, and he needed to vent his concerns to someone.

She regarded him with serious eyes, all humor gone now. And just like before, she got right to the root of his problem. "Do you trust him?"

With candid honestly, Don replied, "I don't know."

They didn't talk about it after that. In part because there wasn't much more to say, and in part because Don's phone rang and just like that it was back to work. For now at least, he'd have to keep his concerns in check.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan hadn't gone to his class that day. As much as he wanted to seem calm about the whole situation and respect Charlie's decisions, the truth was it was a little unnerving to have the Colonel in the house with them. So he'd stayed home, and when it became apparent that Charlie wasn't going, either, Alan had called Amita, explaining that Charlie was in the middle of something and could she cancel his classes that day. She offered to come over, but he quickly told her not to. Naturally, she'd become worried, so, wondering what he could really say, Alan told her that Charlie was doing some work for the government. Not for Don, but for the government.

She stopped protesting after that, but insisted she would drop by that night. Alan actually thought it was a great idea, hoping Amita could entice Charlie out of his trance. The two were going rather steady now, giving Alan high hopes of one day seeing them married and with children. Right now, Alan would just be happy to see Charlie take a break.

He'd taken food into the garage earlier, which the Colonel profusely thanked him for. Alan had the suspicion the Colonel was taking his job of 'watching' Charlie a little too seriously and wondered if the man had even left to use the bathroom.

Charlie had barely said hi and was continuously drawing and erasing numbers and figures on his chalkboards. Alan understood none of it. But as he was leaving, the Colonel stopped him, saying, "Oh, Mr. Eppes. A friend of mine will be dropping by later with a bunch more chalkboards. Hope that's okay."

"Yeah. It's fine." Alan wasn't sure if it was, he wasn't sure if it wasn't either, but he was glad for the heads up.

When the knock came at the door, Alan curiously opened it to find a tall African American smiling at him from his doorstep. He was a large and muscular man but it was hard to be too intimidated with the somewhat out of place cowboy hat on his head. He certainly didn't seem dressed like a cowboy. He didn't even have the big belt buckle.

"Are you Doctor Eppes?" he rumbled out.

"I'm his father, Alan."

The man acknowledged him with a nod in greeting that could almost be a bow it was so formal. "I am Murray. I've come to deliver chalkboards to Colonel Mitchell."

Alan found it a little strange how the man had pronounced 'chalkboards' slower, almost as if he hadn't really had to use the word before, but looking at the beefy arms, Alan figured it could be true. "Ah, yeah. They're in the garage."

Murray nodded again, and Alan followed him out, just to be sure. A van had been parked outside, and almost effortlessly, Murray unloaded the large black chalkboards. Personally, Alan thought they already had enough, but even Charlie lit up at the sight of them, half taking them from Murray in his excitement.

The Colonel had gotten up to greet his 'friend' with exuberance. "Hey! Murray! I'm so glad you could make it. You didn't get lost, did you?"

"I did not."

"Great, great! Thanks for bring the chalkboards. Any longer and I think he might have started writing on the floor," the Colonel half jokingly remarked, but Alan shivered, knowing it full well might have been true.

Looking with concern at his son, who was now filling up the new boards with a fervor Alan thankfully rarely saw, he wondered not for the first time if Charlie taking this job had been a wise decision.

"Then it goes well?" Murray asked.

Alan turned back in time to see the Colonel shrug, only to then grin. "It's like a vacation. And Mr. Eppes here makes the best sandwiches."

Alan wasn't yet convinced about the Colonel, but he couldn't turn down praise. "I have been known to make a stellar pastrami from time to time."

Again Murray nodded his head in his direction. The man certainly seemed to like to do that. Thankfully, he didn't stay long. And to his surprise, Alan found himself actually sighing with relief as the van pulled away. The Colonel and his son had already disappeared back into the garage, leaving Alan alone with his concerns. Unwilling to just stand around, he made a mental list of things he could get done around the house. Since he was home and all.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie barely noticed the time passing. He barely noticed the food he knew he must have consumed. He even barely noticed that it'd gotten dark again. His mind was well and thoroughly consumed with the numbers. There were several problems he'd identified right away. Not because the math was unsound, but because it was being represented in a way he'd never seen before. And the fact that symbols, who's meaning he could only guess at, were scattered throughout the lengthy equation didn't help matters at all. Before he could do anything, he had to figure out what those symbols meant. And that meant coming up with various hypothesis, testing, testing, and retesting. It was far from being an easy feat. The symbols could be practically anything, but his mind thrived on patterns, seeing them where no one else could and so that was what he relied on now.

"Charlie?"

Amita's voice pulled him out of his thoughts the way a light could suddenly fill an entire room. He actually spun around in shock. "Amita?"

The Colonel was on his feet a second later. "I'm sorry Ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"It's okay," Charlie quickly reassured the Colonel.

"No," Colonel Mitchell stated firmly, "It's not."

"Oh, right." National Security and all that. Seeing the angry look on Amita's face, Charlie quickly walked towards her, prodding her back into the house. "I'm sorry. You really can't be in there."

"I've worked with you on other cases," she retorted.

"This is different," and Charlie struggled with his natural desire to tell her everything, everything that had happened, everything about the problem, everything. "Hey, um, how did today go?" He asked, hoping to distract her even as he forced his mind to be still, working on the math problem only in his unconsciousness. It wasn't easy.

However, listening to her talk helped. She told him about her class, and his class, and a couple of the students who had come to her for help, and the students who had wondered when you'd be back to CalSci, and everything else. He smiled, drinking in her voice as she talked, and soon enough she was smiling back.

"Is it really something you can't talk about?" She asked suddenly, her eyes as curious as any good scientist, for she _was_ a brilliant scientist, and someone who Charlie thought of as invaluable.

"Yeah, it is," he honestly told her, wishing with every fiber of his being it wasn't. She had ways of seeing things from a different light than him. Many of his inspirations had been from things she'd said while looking at his various cases. As Larry would say, solutions often come from the distant and unlikely voids of the universe.

Then his dad walked out and seeing them grinned, saying triumphantly, "I know it would work!"

"What would work?"

"Sending Amita to get you out of the garage. Even a great mathematician can't avoid the powers of a woman."

Charlie frowned but Amita laughed and as his heart lightened, Charlie wondered if it could really be true.

"Since you're out, how 'bout some dinner?" His father didn't wait for a response assuming it was a yes, and with a look around suddenly asked, "Where's that Colonel?"

Charlie looked around, too, realizing the Colonel hadn't followed them out of the garage. Curiously amused by the idea, he guessed, "Guarding the chalkboards?"

His dad raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then suddenly shrugged, saying ambiguously, "I'll take him something later." And then disappeared into the kitchen to probably make dinner.

Amita laughed again. "This is just weird, Charlie. You have a Colonel in your garage guarding your chalkboards? Something tells me the next few weeks aren't going to normal, are they?"

Charlie wondered what constituted normal, his mind naturally trying to calculate just that, and then had to agree, "Probably not."

x.x.x.x.x

One case, and then another, had been dropped into Don's lap. And both of them top priority. It was one of the problems with have the top team in the LA Branch, they got the most immediate cases and were expected to solve them just as quickly. What continually shocked Don was that they usually did. And in some ways he knew it was due to Charlie. Word had gotten around over the last couple of years about the LA FBI's _Mathematician_. Even here inside the branch Don caught mention of Charlie as being part of Don's team on a regular basis.

Part of him hated it, and part of him loved it, and both parts were usually kicked to the side as being inconsequential. They had a job to do, and if Don needed to use his bother's talents to help them he would. But now suddenly he didn't want too.

The first case had been easy enough, but the second gave them a lot more legwork. Twice now Colby had suggested they call Charlie for help, and twice Don had shot him down. It was only then he'd realized just how dependant they'd become on Charlie. Ya, Charlie could help, but he wasn't always going to be around, and he told them as such.

Even as Don snapped at his team he knew he was likely overreacting. Frustrated about more than they knew, Don got them going on their assignments. It wasn't like tracking down the whereabouts of few highjackers wasn't something they could do. It wasn't some great math problem, and certainly not something to be bugging Charlie about, not right now.

Don knew from conversations with his dad that Charlie wasn't closeting himself in the garage anymore, he'd even returned to CalSci to teach his classes. But his dad had told him every moment Charlie wasn't doing something he absolutely had to do, he was working on that math problem. They way Don figured it, the sooner Charlie had it solved, the sooner the whole matter would be done with and then Colonel Mitchell could leave and life could go back to normal.

Strolling outside, Don wasn't surprised to find Megan quickly catching up to him. "You should be following that lead on the truck, Megan. We've got a lot of ground to cover if we're going to catch these guys."

"I know, I will." At least she wasn't fighting him about the whole 'let's call Charlie' issue. Seriously, did they think Charlie could give them a magic algorithm to find all their bad guys? That's not really how it worked. But even Don felt antsy. He didn't think they needed Charlie on this one, but just knowing he wasn't accessible felt wrong.

He gave Megan a pointed look and turned to leave. He was trying to be as fair to his team as possible and run down as much legwork himself. Her hand caught his arm pulling him back and hesitantly she asked, "Are things…okay?"

He knew what she was really asking, the only one who knew why Don wasn't letting them call Charlie in on this, why Don was more tense than usual. "They're fine, Megan. They're fine." She just nodded, and letting go let him leave.

Don had to wonder if he'd lied to her. Nothing had happened thus far, and his mind told him nothing would, certainly Colonel Mitchell wasn't sinister in any way, but Don's heart couldn't shake the feeling that things were off. _Something_ was off. And that usually meant at some point something would go wrong.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie got up after only a couple hours, much as he had been doing for the last several nights because only exhaustion was letting him sleep at all. As hard as he tried, he just couldn't shut his mind off. The best he'd gotten was dimming things down, usually with Amita's help, so he could get through his classes, his lectures, and anything else that seemed absolutely necessary.

He had a class to teach today, at least, he was fairly certain he did. Checking the clock for the day, and the calendar for his schedule, he realized he had at least a couple hours of time before that, and almost eagerly made his way down to the garage. He'd shower and change later. One good thing about the Colonel following him everywhere, or Cameron, as the Colonel was now insisting on, was that he had a vehicle so Charlie didn't have to catch rides, or ride his bike. One thing he had never really liked doing was driving. His family was just fine to let that remain the case, telling him he'd probably get lost in a math problem while on the road. Something Charlie didn't feel the need to correct.

His mind already soaring with another possible equation or theory to try he stepped into the garage only to stop in complete and utter horror. Every black board was empty, wiped clean. Spinning around, he raced back into the house in a panic. Stumbling into the kitchen to find his father and the Colonel eating breakfast at the table, Charlie exclaimed, "It's gone!"

"What's gone?" his dad asked with immediate concern.

"My work! It's all gone, erased!" Charlie felt his knees go weak and he sank into a chair.

The Colonel wasn't nearly as shocked or alarmed as he should be, and with a tap to the laptop replied, "It's not gone, it's all in here."

"No," Charlie practically cried. "The chalkboards have been erased! All my new work, the revisions, my theories!"

"Yeah, it's all in here. I planned to put it back up again when we got back from the university," Cameron told him.

Charlie was shocked to realize he actually wanted to throttle the man right then. The Colonel seemed to sense it, too, because he quickly added, "I can put it back up now if you want."

"Why would you even erase it?" Charlie had demanded, half pleaded.

The Colonel's face scrunched up with concern. "I've been taking it down and putting it up every time we leave the house. Didn't you notice?" But Charlie hadn't noticed. Then the Colonel added in a smaller voice, sounding rather lame, "Plus, I was getting tired of sleeping in the garage."

His dad actually had the audacity to chuckle. Charlie just couldn't believe it. Had the Colonel really been taking the equations down and putting them up again? How could he not know that? How could he not recognize it hadn't been in his own handwriting? But Charlie knew how, when it came to difficult problems, all Charlie saw were numbers.

He slumped in the chair, suddenly feeling completely drained. He father stood up, giving Charlie a knowing look only a father could, and stated, "Why don't I make you something to eat."

He couldn't do anything but agree. Beside him the Colonel fidgeted uneasily, trying to act normal as he finished his own breakfast. Charlie still couldn't get the numbers to slow down, and reached for the laptop, but his father quickly stopped him. "Oh no you don't. Not at the table!"

Charlie actually sighed, but he relinquished to his father will. Wasn't this supposed to be _his_ house? The numbers had finally dimmed again by the time Alan served him up a plate of fried eggs and bacon and just as suddenly Charlie realized he was starving. As he thought about it, he knew he had a long day ahead of him.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan sat at the dinning room table with his homework spread out everywhere. He had two papers due the next day, but he found he had a hard time focusing. His mind kept going over the last week. It was odd how he'd incorporated the Colonel into his son's daily life. Alan thought he might actually be getting used to the Colonel's presence. Cameron himself was really a rather pleasant guy. Easy manner, liked to joke but not tease, and was ever so polite. It was really a novel thing for Alan.

His son was also becoming more and more excited the further he got into this crazy energy source math equation. A physics problem, really, but to Charlie, math was math, no matter the application. Alan tried not to think about what the application might be for a 'power source,' especially one that the Colonel claimed could save million of lives.

Naturally, he didn't trust what the government thought was in the best interests of the people, and a power source that 'could save millions of lives' could just as easily kill those lives as save them. He sighed, once again trying to turn his mind to his paper, and once again finding his attention straying.

When the door opened, Alan turned to see his oldest son walk in looking strained, stressed, and plain exhausted. "You should have called ahead, I would have made you something to eat," Alan told him, trying to stay calm even as he worried over Don's condition.

"Nah. I'm not hungry," Don replied and Alan instinctually knew Don was lying, but didn't push it. Don sat down across from him, his eyes darting about the empty room, naturally going to the hall that led out to the garage. "Is Charlie around?"

"He's at the university. Why, you need his help on a case?"

"No. I was just curios. He there alone?"

"No, Cameron's with him." Seeing the look on his son's face, Alan put his pencil down. The paper could wait. "You know, Don, I don't think we have to worry about the Colonel."

"Yeah, I know," Don replied, but he was fidgeting.

Alan picked up his pencil again, no mind for the paper, but knowing his son didn't want to talk about it. Still, he couldn't help but say, "Charlie's a grown man, Don."

As he expected, Don got up, his mannerisms radiating irritation. "I know that, dad!" Don disappeared, but Alan didn't have to turn around to know Don was getting himself a beer from the kitchen. He always did when he was upset about something, but Alan had learned the hard way that if he didn't chase after his son, he'd come right back. Sure enough, Don reappeared, sitting back down at the table and taking a swig of the beer as Alan tried to look preoccupied with his homework.

He gave it time, and after five minutes of silence it finally came out. "This last case took us five days. The guys almost skipped town before we caught 'em."

Alan glanced up but Don wasn't looking at him, he was staring in the direction of the hall, in the direction of the garage. After another minute of drowning silence, Alan finally prodded, "You got them, right?"

"Yeah." Once again irritation creased his face. "It's just, I just can't help thinking…" he trailed off, obviously struggling with something in his head, almost unable to give the voice thoughts. Alan had a feeling he knew what it might be. He's seen a lot of changes in his sons over the last three years. Some for the worse, but most for the better. Then Don tried again, saying, "I bet if Charlie had been in on it he'd have come up with some fantastic mathematical way to predict where these guys would have been."

"Or he might not have," Alan stated simply, trying to be the voice of reason to Don's self doubts, but he knew his son wasn't listening. Him and Charlie were too much alike in that respect. Far too obsessed over their own guilt. Personally, Alan had wondered where they'd even developed that tendency. Certainly not from Margaret or himself. Still trying to sooth his eldest son's worries, Alan firmly stated, "You did catch them. It's what you do. And you're damn good at it!"

Don actually smiled, looking a little more like himself. "Yeah, we did get them."

"Good." Alan put his pencil down again. "Now, how about I reheat some of the turkey soup I made the other night."

Again Don smiled. "Sure dad."

Alan like having his sons around. Liked it even more when they let him be a parent again. It wasn't easy, one son a world renowned genius, the other, a world renowned FBI Agent, and him in the middle, thinking the world of both of them. It was too bad Margaret couldn't see the impact she'd had on them.

By the time Alan had brought the soup out Don had showered, changed, and looked far more human than he had before. They sat down to share lunch, Alan's second lunch, but he wasn't going to miss the opportunity of have a meal with his son. Then, as Don took a sip of the soup, he not quite so casually asked, "So has Colonel Mitchell been using my room?"

Alan pretended he didn't notice Don's discomfort and told him with candid honesty, "No. I offered it, but Cameron refused. Actually, for the first half of the week he was sleeping in the garage. He's since moved to the couch. I'm a little worried about him. He insists on being awake whenever Charlie is, and well, you know Charlie when he's got his mind wrapped around a math problem. He doesn't sleep much."

"You're _worried_ about him?" Don asked incredulously, making such a face that Alan wanted to chide him for it, only barely refraining from not.

"He's a decent man, Don," Alan stated instead, a little surprised to find himself standing up for the officer, and even more surprised at Don's reaction. "I don't think he would harm Charlie."

"I know, I know." And it sounded an awful lot like Don had been having that same argument with himself for some time. Looking contrite, Don told him, "I don't think he would either, it's just…I just don't like it."

It, not him. Don didn't like the situation, and in many ways, Alan would agree. But at the same time, he'd seen both his sons go off into many situations he didn't like. That was the nature of their skills and professions. "Sometimes it's not about what we like, Donnie."

Don made another face but didn't reply. Instead, he buried himself in eating his soup. Alan slowly had some as well, but made no real effort. After all, he wasn't actually hungry. All too soon Don was finished and standing up, he said, "Thanks for lunch dad. I think I'm gonna go home and crash. Been a long week, you know."

Alan didn't believe him for a second, but he didn't want to push Don too hard. "Hey, stop by anytime. There's a game on tomorrow night."

"I'll see if I can make it," but it wasn't a promise. Even without the recent complication in their lives, Don was perpetually on call, and was called, perpetually. Alan watched as his son left again, glad Don had even stopped by at all. He sighed. No, sometimes it really wasn't about what a person liked.

x.x.x.x.x

Don had intended to go to CalSci, just to check in on Charlie with his own eyes, but he barely got two steps outside the house before his phone rang. "Eppes."

"Don, we've got another case. Walt wants you in right away," Megan's voice told him over the phone.

Idly, he wondered if she had even made it out of the office, while consciously he replied, "I'll be right there." He shut the phone and sighed. This really wasn't one of his better weeks. Ignoring the weary feeling seeping into his bones, Don quickly made his way back to work.

Megan met him practically at the elevator, but she wasn't alone. "Don, this is Agents Malcolm Barrett and John Grey with the NID."

"Hey, Don Eppes," Don greeted, his mind already switching back to his 'work' frame of mind. Agents from another Government Agency always meant it was something big.

Barrett, apparently the head of the two immediately got down to business. "We've been tracking a man by the name of Tom Weavers for some time now. We think he might be in LA."

"What's he wanted for?" He led the group back to his desk, and then redirected them to one of the conference rooms. As he did, he noticed Colby and David exiting the elevator and motioned for them to catch up.

Barrett waited till everyone was in the room and the door shut. "The main charge is the selling of government secrets, but he's got a history of being a mercenary for hire."

Crossing his arms, David asked, "How do you know he's here?"

"The NSA intercepted a message we traced back to LA. The location had been abandoned, but we're pretty confident that he's still here."

"What was the message?" Don asked.

To his surprised Barrett shrugged. "We don't know. It's still encrypted. The NSA are still working on it, but they say it's a new style of encryption they haven't encountered before."

Don filed that away, saying with doubt, "We can have our guys take a look at it."

"Actually, that's part of why we're here. A friend in the NSA said you've got a mathematician that helps you out, and has worked with the NSA on encryptions before? Your brother?"

Don felt his jaw tightening. "He's a little busy right now."

"This is important. I'm sure Weavers is here for something important, and we need to know what it is."

Everyone in the room was watching him, the NID with cautious hostility out of their need to push this forward, and his team with just plain caution. They knew how protective he was about his brother right now. Thinking it over with thin lips, Don knew this wasn't something he could pass over, or even begin to think they could solve without Charlie. With half a sigh, Don finally said, "I'll see if he can help. In the mean time, I'd appreciate any other information you have about Weavers so we can start trying to track him down."

His team gave a collected sigh, forgetting their own weariness as they all got started on the new case. There was always a strong chance they could find Weavers without the decoded message, and it was something Don rather hoped could happen now, but once he'd gotten his team going on assignments assimilating the information packet Barrett had brought, he knew he couldn't keep avoiding the inevitable.

Barrett had actually wanted to come with Don, but Don absolutely refused, saying he'd bring Charlie there if he were available. He didn't just want to call Charlie in. For some reason he couldn't explain, Don's unease had started to grow. He needed to see Charlie himself on this one.

A short ride later had him at CalSci and with almost brotherly instinct, Don found the classroom on his first guess. He slipped inside, spotting the Colonel sitting at an angle so he could watch both Charlie and the door. Don wondered if it was conscious or habit bread from experience. Much of the Colonel's history had been his stellar record as one of the top pilots in the Air Force. It was only the last few years that had been completely missing, but Don knew even a fraction of that time in the right situations could change a man's life forever. Not unlike his own time in Fugitive Retrieval.

Walking in and sitting next to the Colonel, Don noticed the laptop bag was still around the Colonel's shoulders. He was never without it, but Don was surprised to see the Colonel still wearing it instead of keeping in on the half desk in front of him. The Colonel's words from the first night echoed through his mind. 'Better safe than sorry.'

"Agent Eppes," the Colonel murmured in greeting.

"Colonel Mitchell," Don returned. They didn't say anything else, but each turned and listened as Charlie continued his class. Don could tell it was almost over. He knew also that his brother had seen him enter, and that look in his eye told Don Charlie knew something was up, but Charlie didn't pause, and soon his body language changed back to the casual excitement he always had when teaching. It was one of the things Don secretly like watching. He didn't care if Charlie could solve some of the greatest mathematical mysteries the world had, he just cared if Charlie was happy. And watching him, like this, helped Don believe that maybe his little brother was.

When the lecture ended the rest of the students got up, leaving in a cluster of noise and motion. Both Don and the Colonel remained seated. When the class finally emptied, Charlie walked up to them, books in hand and a smile on his face. "Hey Don."

"Hey Charlie." Decided he didn't want to dance around the issue, or that he was a little too tired to do so, Don decided to just blurt it out. "Hey, look. We've got a case, pretty serious situation. Hired mercenary in LA, and we don't know why. NSA intercepted a message from the merc but they can't break the encryption. Your name came up."

"You want to see if I can break the code?"

"Yeah."

Don waited, watching his brother with calculating eyes. Charlie didn't immediately jump on it, but he also didn't turn it down. Then Don saw Charlie's eyes flickered to the Colonel and the Colonel retorted, "Hey, it's up to you. I'm in no rush."

Don wasn't sure if he was annoyed at the Colonel, or just that Charlie had felt the need to ask him permission. Once again he felt his jaw tightening in distaste, but then Charlie said brightly, "Yeah I'll help. I could use the break."

Highly doubting that was the case, Don watched the emotion play across Charlie's face. He wanted to tell Charlie he shouldn't help, that he should just stick to this crazy math problem of his like his face said he wanted to, but he knew his brother well enough to know that would just crush him. He didn't want to stop his current work for this, but he didn't want to let Don down, either.

It was almost comforting to Don to find out he rated higher than an engaging math problem. He just wished it hadn't had to come up. "Okay. Thanks."

They followed him back to the Branch Office, both of them. The Colonel's ID cleared both him and the laptop through without search or fuse much as Don assumed it would, but when the elevator doors opened to let them out on the right floor Don felt the Colonel suddenly stiffen in surprise.

Across the floor, the NID agents turned and seeing them, it was obvious Barrett was having an equally shocked reaction to seeing the Colonel. It had passed by the time they reached the others, but Barrett still greeted them with a tight smile. "You must be Professor Eppes. I've heard you do fantast work."

"Thank you," Charlie answered simply, but even he had notice Barrett hadn't actually looked at him.

Then the Agent greeted in a low and almost ominous voice, "Colonel Mitchell."

"Agent Barrett," the Colonel returned, sounding just as guarded, and Don's internal alarms suddenly rose. There was no obvious hostility, but the amount of distrust the two men had for each other was thick.

"I'm surprised to see you. What are you doing here?" Barrett asked diplomatically.

Mitchell smirked, replying lightly, "I'm on vacation."

"Really," The two men were so locked in their gazes it seemed to freeze the moment. Don opened his mouth to either break them up or demand to know what the hell was going on when Agent Barrett asked, "Colonel, can I have a word with you?"

"Sure," Mitchell replied, keeping his voice light, but the skin around his eyes were tight. They moved off a ways, but not so far that Don couldn't hear them.

"What are you doing here? Seriously," Agent Barrett practically demanded of the Colonel.

"It's nothing. _Seriously_," Colonel replied, his eyes hardening, but not with malice as much with annoyance.

"You know the NID is supposed to be informed of any-"

Mitchell cut him off, saying emphatically, "The world is not in danger!"

It was an odd thing to say, a little melodramatic, but even odder was that Barrett seemed to take it seriously. "You're not just lying to me, are you?"

"I'm not just lying to you," Mitchell insisted and after another minute of staring at each other, the two men walked back.

"I'm sorry," Barrett apologized, his demeanor completely changing. He gave Charlie a huge smile. "Professor Eppes, it truly is an honor. We could really use your help with trying to decode this message."

"That's what I'm here for," Charlie replied, confusion creasing his face as he looked at the two men who'd been quietly arguing only moments before. There wasn't even a trace of agitation left on either man's faces.

Glancing at Barrett's partner, Don noticed even he had been surprised by the encounter.

"Well, let me show you what we've got," Barrett said, leading Charlie further into the bullpen, to the room Don had set up for them to work in. He was about to follow, but a hand caught him and he looked down at Megan. She'd heard the argument as well, and with a single expression had communicated everything she was feeling to Don, mostly because it mirrored his same thoughts. Something was up, and whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Don just wished he knew what.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie sat in front of the screen Agent Barrett had left him with in the corner of one of the rooms. It was easier to do this work without the distraction of the bullpen, plus, if he could hear the things Don's team was doing on their end to track down their current bad guy, even Charlie knew he was likely to get distracted. But regardless, things still insisted on interrupting his thoughts. Mostly, the phone.

First a call from his dad to find out why he hadn't come home from the school, then a call from Amita wondering if he was still at the school, another call, surprisingly from Larry, who'd gone to the house only to find he wasn't there, and again another call from his dad inquiring if he planned to come home any time that night.

Charlie wasn't a believer in Murphy's Law. As a mathematician, he just couldn't give way to the idea that bad luck followed good deeds. As a boy he'd even gone out of his way to disprove the theory, but it certainly seemed uncanny that his phone rang every time he felt he was close to a breakthrough. If he thought about it, he'd realize he was just impatient. He wanted to crack this a fast as possible so he could get back to the real project swimming in his head.

But it was with guilt that he hung up with his dad, having already apologized on the spot for getting short with him, especially when he realized it was already one am. Sometimes this office could be as disorienting as the computer labs were at night at the school. With chaotic events plaguing them daily, it was no wonder the office was still full of people, but a hour later even that finally seemed to thin.

Then Don came in, looking bushed. "How's it going, Charlie. Got anything yet?"

"No, not yet," Charlie replied in a terse tone. He was vaguely aware of the Colonel spinning in his chair somewhere behind him, but he'd tuned near everything out in his focus.

"Charlie."

It took a second time before Charlie actually turned and looked up at his brother.

Don pursed his lips, the way he did when he had something to say but didn't want to say it. "Why don't we take a break. I've already sent the others home to catch a couple hours, we should do the same while we can."

"I'm really close, Don. It's like I know how it's encrypted, I can feel it there, right at the edge of my brain, I just can't seem to think clearly enough." And he kept getting distracted, although he didn't say that part out loud.

"I know you'll get it, Charlie. But maybe it's not coming because you're tired."

Charlie hadn't been tired until Don said it, and then like a magical word the exhaustion set in. His brain slowed down, the numbers stopped trying to overpower him and for a moment he wondered if he would fall asleep right then and there. "Yeah, okay. I could use a couple hours." He got up, moving sluggishly away from the computer.

Of course his brother smiled. "Yeah, there we go. Maybe dad'll make us breakfast."

Not bothering to reply, Charlie stumbled out ahead of Don. He could feel the Colonel moving along behind him, but he'd gotten so used to the Colonel being in his peripheral vision it didn't even bother him anymore.

Don drove them all back in his car, and Charlie was sure he would have fallen asleep along the way if Don hadn't suddenly started asking the Colonel questions. And just like that Charlie was wide awake.

"So, Colonel Mitchell. What is it with you and Agent Barrett?"

"We've worked together a few times," Cameron casually replied.

"On good terms or bad terms," Don pushed.

Charlie couldn't see the Colonel, but he imagined Cameron shrugging the way he often did when he was being evasive. "Both? We've had our ups and downs I guess you could say. But Agent Barrett's a good man if that's what you're asking."

"It's not." And the tone in Don's voice caused Charlie to look at him in surprise. His brother's eyes were narrowed, tight, and while he looked calm and relaxed, Charlie had seen enough of his brother in action to know he wasn't as relaxed as he looked. Then Don added darkly, "This guy we're chasing, it doesn't have anything to do with you or this math problem, does it?"

"Not that I'm aware off. It's pure coincidence Barrett and I know each other."

Don huffed, not fully believing that. Charlie wasn't exactly a firm believer in coincidence, either, not when more times than not it could be mathematically explained.

Then Don asked something else that startled Charlie. "So this math problem Charlie's working for you, this power source, what's it for?" Charlie had never known Don to be quite so directly hostile before, unless he was in an interrogation room.

"I can't tell you," Cameron stated, his voice sounding much like he'd been expecting the question for some time. "But I can promise you, Agent Eppes, it's nothing that you could possibly imagine. We're not the bad guys."

Don didn't reply, but his lips thinned. Frowning, Charlie turned in his seat to look back at the Colonel. "I have the highest security clearance, don't I?"

Cameron actually smiled at him. "That doesn't mean you need to know, Charlie."

The rest of the trip was silent, which both dared to wake Charlie up as it did want to put him to sleep. His brain kept thinking, keeping him awake, but it wasn't about numbers, it was about what Don had asked. What was the power source for? He'd learned enough by now to know that the potential output was enough to run half the world. Just learning that was enough to fill his mind with unwanted worries.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan looked around the table, ecstatic. He'd been dozing on the couch when his sons had come in, but had quickly relinquished the couch to the Colonel and gone to find his own bed. Now, while only a couple hours later, they were all up and at the table eating pancakes. No one was really talking. He was sure Don was focused on whatever case they were in the middle of, and if Charlie wasn't focused on that, no doubt he was thinking about the math problem. Cameron hadn't said much himself past a few compliments to Alan about the food, but seeing him give Don several furtive looks, Alan was convinced his eldest had somehow intimidated the Colonel. Don could have a way of doing that from time to time.

Regardless, they had a full house, and that was a rare event to be celebrated every chance possible. "So, how's the case going?" Alan asked, not really expecting an answer but needing something to break the silence.

Don replied, "It's going okay. We've got a few leads that seem promising."

"I think Charlie's almost got that encryption," Cameron cautiously added.

Charlie didn't reply, and one look told Alan he wasn't going to. It was amazing the fork was managing to find the mouth, Charlie's thoughts had gone so deep. Then suddenly he jumped up, crossed the room and came back with a blank page torn out of one of Alan's notebooks, at least, Alan seriously hoped it'd been a blank page. "Charlie, come on, not at the table," he complained, but his son didn't hear him, the pencil was already moving in one hand and the fork moving in another.

Then it all suddenly stopped, and around a mouthful of pancakes Charlie exclaimed, "That's it!"

"Solved your big math problem?" Don asked and Alan was sure he detected a note of hopefulness in Don's voice.

"No," Charlie replied, swallowing hard to clear his throat. "I've still got a long way to go on that one. But I know how the encryption was done. I should have seen it before. I mean I've been going over so many theories and different equations trying to figure out those unknown symbols that it's all right there in the front of my brain. I should have seen it before." He repeated, still staring at his notes even as the words came tumbling out.

"Okay," Don stated, standing up, and Alan knew that was the cue. The end to breakfast. "Let's go."

"What?" For a moment Charlie just blinked up at him, but then he suddenly sprang into motion, likely anxious to test out his theory. "Thanks for breakfast, dad."

"Yeah, thanks dad," Don echoed already looking for his suit jacket.

"Will I see you boys later?"

"Of course," Don replied, but there would be no mention of when.

The Colonel rose, too, not so willing to leave his breakfast half eaten as he hurriedly shoved the last of his pancakes in his mouth. "Thanks Alan for the pancakes, they were great."

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Alan lightly chastised, earning a grin in response. If only his boys were so appreciative of his cooking.

Alan really didn't mind, but sometimes he felt like this house was nothing more than a rest stop to them.


	2. Chapter 2

Don watched as Charlie inputted his new equation into the computer and it began to translate the garbled message. Charlie explained the basics of what it was doing, and Don followed along well enough, but in the end all that really mattered was if it worked.

They were all in the room waiting for the results. When they had gotten there, Don wasn't really surprised to find his team already back and hard at work. Like him, they took their job seriously. Even Agent Barrett and Grey were there and waiting. It almost seemed strange, as if they had all just instinctually known Charlie would have figured it out while they were gone.

Leaning back against the edge of a desk, Don tersely waited. He still hadn't been able to relieve the knot of worry he'd acquired the day before, and even more than before his gut told him something was off. As the message in front of them began to translate, Don at last finally felt he knew what.

Colonel Mitchell, who up until now had been casually swaying back and forth in his chair, suddenly jerked upright, and even bolted for the computer, his hand reaching to close the screen. But just before he could reach it Agent Barrett had beaten him to it, to Don's surprise, also wanting to cut the image off.

Charlie for his part was sitting there with the most confused look on his face Don had ever seen. It would be comical if it weren't so serious. The rest of the room had varying looks of confusion as well, but Don's had tightened to a glower so hard, so dark he dared anyone to cross him.

Agent Barrett turned to Don, his face grave, even flinching slightly from Don's glare as he said, "We need to talk."

It was obvious Barrett had no intention of moving, so Don turned to his team, unsuccessfully trying to lighten his expression as he asked them to give them the room. Barrett also asked his partner to leave. A protest on his lips, Grey took one look at Don's face and fled.

It wasn't a small matter that Barrett wasn't concerned about Colonel Mitchell, in fact, Don was glad, because what had appeared on the screen was the very same math that Charlie was currently working on. Don hadn't seen enough to pretend he could understand any of it, but the foreign symbols were immediately recognizable.

"What's going on?" It was a simple enough question, and Don figured it was direct enough to get right to the point. And in case they had any misgiving about how serious Don was, he added darkly, "I want to know now, and I want to know everything."

Barrett didn't immediately respond, but instead turned to the Colonel. "That was the ZPM Equation, wasn't it?"

Mitchell just nodded, his face grim.

"And that's why you're here. Charlie Eppes is working on it. More than that, if you're here it means he has a good chance of actually solving it, doesn't he?"

Don didn't like being ignored, and he really didn't like being out of the loop. "What the hell is going on? And how does this guy have Charlie's math problem?"

"It's not my math," Charlie suddenly stated, speaking for the first time, although he still looked a little in shock to Don. "It's the original equation."

Don crossed his arms, giving both the Colonel and the agent a dark glare. There was a lot more at stake here than just math. "Who is Weaver?"

Barrett actually sighed. "Everything is in that file, I promise you." Don was getting a lot of promises he didn't trust these days.

Then the Colonel asked, sounding urgent, "Is he part of the Trust?"

Looking uncertain, Barrett replied, "There's never been anything to link them before. Until now."

"And what is the Trust?" Don all but grated out.

"They're a terrorist organization, world wide. We've almost eradicated it, but there's no telling if we got everyone. Basically, their main goal is to steal power and technology any way they deem necessary. They're a bunch of fanatics who have their own twisted beliefs on how best to protect the world."

There was that loose use of the word 'world' again. "Protect the world?" Don repeated, his voice dry with sarcasm. Then it all came back to the one glaring fact that had slapped Don in the face, and likely Charlie hadn't realized yet, all that he was a genius and everything.

"If Weaver has this math, then that means he's here for Charlie."

Charlie spun around in his chair, his eyes widening suddenly in even more shock than before. "What?"

Don expected Barrett to disagree, or the very least excuse it, telling him it was only one possibility, but there was no doubt on Barrett's face, no look of guilt or remorse, only confirmation that the agent was thinking the exact same thing, and had more reason to believe it was true than Don did.

Once again Barrett had turned to the Colonel. "You need to get them out of here. If Weaver is Trust than there's no where on Earth that's safe. I assume you have a contingency plan?"

Mitchell nodded, lightly replying even while his face was still grim, "Of course."

"Whoa! Hold on here. What the hell are you talking about," Don exclaimed. He'd had enough of them and their secrets. Anger fueling his words as his fists clenched at his side. "And don't give any of that _need to know_ bullshit, either. When it comes to my brother's safety, I need to know!"

But they still ignored him, Barrett stating to the Colonel, "You get them out, I'll take care of things down here."

Don took an angry step towards them and even Charlie rose in alarm. "Oh no, no! We are not going anywhere until you give me a straight answer!"

The Colonel looked up at him, an expression of pity creasing his face even as it made the knot in Don's stomach tighten to hard he felt sick. "I'm sorry, Agent Eppes." He put a hand on Don's shoulder, but Don jerked away from him. The Colonel just continued, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to raise your security clearance."

Then he pulled out a small white almost egg shaped crystal and said, as if he were talking into a microphone, "Daedalus, we're going to plan B. Three ready for transport."

Every instinct Don had screamed at him, and he was a step away form the Colonel ready to grab him by the lapels and force the answers out when the white light suddenly surrounded him. His mind went blank, with a sort of floatless sensation, and then suddenly exploded with sensations as Don stumbled forward, his senses completely disoriented.

Even as he straightened, trying to take in everything in that first glance, Don had his gun out of its holster and pointed at Mitchell. "What the hell?" Don blinked a few times clearing his head as he reoriented, finding himself, the Colonel and one just as confused Charlie, in a rather sizable metal empty room. Barrett was gone, the computer was gone, and they certainly weren't in the offices anymore.

Don had no idea what kind of technology could change a person's location like that, but he didn't care. Still pointing the gun at Mitchell he demanded, "Take us back. Take us back, right now."

"Take it easy, Agent Eppes," Mitchell said, his eyes watching the gun while he kept his hands up in as non-threatening manner as possible. "I know you're confused right now, but if you lower your gun I promise I'll explain everything. I mean it. _Everything_ this time."

Don didn't feel like relaxing, and right then he certainly didn't feel like lowering his gun. "Where are we?" He asked darkly.

"You're on the Daedalus, it's a ship, in space."

Don was so not in the mood for games, but then Charlie's voice caught his attention. "Don?"

"Just stay calm, Charlie, I'll get us out of here," Don promised, meaning it.

Charlie just repeated his name, his voice sounding mystified, and even perhaps a tad excited. "Don. I really think you should see this."

Tightening his grip on the gun in case Mitchell tried something, Don spared a glance in Charlie's direction. In the next moment the gun was completely forgotten about, and Don's chest tightened, suddenly making it very hard to breath. He took an unbidden step towards the wide window before hurriedly taking two steps back.

Charlie seemed to be having the opposite reaction. He reeled back only to take several steps forward, his hand reaching out to touch the window in amazement. Don automatically reached out to stop him. "Charlie, don't."

"Don, this is incredible. Oh, if only Larry were here to see it."

Don still wasn't convinced he was really seeing what he was seeing, but it felt real. The window stretched out in front of them showed a horizon of black, the black of space, with their bright blue planet sitting right below them.

"There has to be something more than just glass, some kind of energy to repel and enforce the structure of the window," Charlie stated, touching it in spite of Don's warning not to.

Then a disembodied voice of a man spoke, sounding almost like he was come through on a speaker, and yet not. "Colonel Mitchell, are we ready to go?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Colonel automatically replied and Don had a suspicion he was talking to the crystal egg, but more importantly were the words he had said.

Alarm washed through Don and he had his gun in the air again. "No. Tell them to stop."

"I can't do that. It's not safe here for you anymore."

His words sent shivers up and down Don's spine, and even Charlie turned, alarm washing his face. "What about dad?"

"We're not going," Don stated as if it were a done deal. In that split second he'd already decided he'd hold the Colonel hostage if he had to. "Take us back, now!"

But Mitchell seemed unconcerned by the gun, although he stayed carefully still. "Your father won't be in any danger, we'll make sure of it. If this guy's Trust we can nose around that you two are here, out of reach, they'll have no reason to pursue you."

"That's a lot of ifs," Charlie remarked, his voice soft, and his face worried. Don glanced at his brother in concern. This wasn't the time to fall apart, especially not on some freaking space ship!

"I can protect my brother better than anyone," Don stated harshly. "You had no right to bring us here."

"No, I know I didn't," Mitchell admitted, making it harder for Don to be angry at the guy. "Look, these guys have technology you've probably never even imagined before. You have to trust me, this was the only way to keep your brother safe."

Then things shifted. Not like when the white light had taken then, but it was a noticeable shift, monumental in feel, and in horror Don looked out the window to see Earth disappear in a bright purple and white flash. The window filled up with light, moving light that made designs his mind didn't even want to interrupt.

"What just happened?" He demanded, his chest tightening again as he felt the reality of the situation coming down. Thing were quickly moving out of his control.

"We jumped into hyperspace," Mitchell calmly told them, watching Don closely with sharp eyes.

With a tight breath Don finally lowered his gun, quickly holstering it before his shaking fingers could accidentally pull the trigger.

Charlie didn't seem to be in much better condition, his voice shaking as he asked, "This is real, isn't it? We're in space. We're…we've left Earth."

"Yes," Mitchell replied, his voice soft and sympathetic. "This is real."

Don needed to sit down, but there weren't any chairs in sight. So instead he paced, his mind tripping over questions he didn't want to dare ask but needed to. Had to, for Charlie's sake. "Where are you taking us?"

Mitchell took a big breath, answering like he was dropping a bombshell, "To the city of Atlantis."

"What, like in the stories? The city that sank into the ocean and all that?" Don asked sarcastically, feeling even more unnerved when Mitchell nodded.

"Actually, yeah." And then the Colonel started talking. "Look, the truth is, aliens are real. The good _and_ the bad ones. In fact, humans are really the second evolutional state of an alien race we call the Ancients. And as far as we know humans populate hundreds of worlds not only in our own Milky Way Galaxy, but in another, close by, dwarf galaxy we call the Pegasus Galaxy. Atlantis was real, it just wasn't on Earth. We have a base that's been there for over three years now. And we'll be safe there."

"How…" but Don found he couldn't breath, and whatever question he had slipped away from him. It was just too much to take in, too much to grasp. Crossing his arms he leaned against the wall trying to get control again.

Much to his surprise, Charlie was actually getting calmer with the information, asking with interest. "How far away is the Pegasus Galaxy?"

Don closed his eyes, wishing he could close his ears, too.

"Three point one million light years away. We should get there in about three weeks."

"But that means we're traveling approximately one point nine nine light years per second! That's amazing!"

Amazing. Charlie had said _amazing_ where Don's mind had insisted on _impossible_. He struggled to breath, struggled to grasp what was happening, but the more he thought about it the worse it became. A low half hysterical laugh left his lips, shocking Don into the realization that he was loosing it, and that pissed him off. That worked in his favor. As anger began to burn through him the shaking stopped, and his mind finally calmed.

He didn't care how it was happening, or whether it could or couldn't happen, what he cared about was his family. And how the hell was he supposed to protect Charlie in space? Opening his eyes, he zeroed in on the Colonel, who was watching him with great apprehension. Then Don did what he had originally intended to do before his world had been completely uprooted and flipped on its back.

With just a few quick strides he had grabbed the Colonel by the lapels and slammed him up against the wall. Don knew the Colonel had seen it coming, but he hadn't reacted, hadn't tried to defend himself, hadn't done anything more than tense in anticipation.

For that reason alone Don didn't slug the guy. But that didn't stop him from yelling. "You had no right! No right to bring us here. To take us away from our dad or our friends! To take us away from our planet? No right!"

"Don!" Charlie exclaimed in alarm, but he didn't try to stop him.

Glaring down at Colonel in disgust, Don grated out, "Do you have any idea what kind of terror you've caused? What's everyone supposed to think when they find out we've just disappeared! What's our dad supposed to think?"

"It couldn't be helped. This work is too important," the Colonel defended, but Don wasn't ready to back down. "Look," Mitchell said, adverting his gaze away from Don's for a moment as he sighed. "I'm sorry. I really am, and we'll make sure they're safe, that they know you're safe, but there are far worse things out there than a hit man. Do you know Earth has come close to the brink of destruction at least five times in the last decade?"

Don's brain spun, and he felt a tremor run through his arm. He let go of the Colonel so it wouldn't give him away, but he didn't back up. The Colonel had the look of knowing sympathy in his eyes, but at least he didn't insult Don by acknowledging it.

"Barrett was right when he said Charlie has a real chance of solving this thing. He's already done more in one week than the best scientists in the world have in six months. If he can figure out how the ZPM's work, we have a much better chance of keeping Earth safe." The Colonel stated, not even a flicker in his eyes to say he was exaggerating the threat.

"ZPM?" Charlie hesitantly inquired. "That's the name of the power supply?"

Mitchell glanced at him, answering even as he quickly turned back to Don. "Yes. We have one on Earth now, powering an Ancient outpost in the Antarctic, another on a Battleship, much like this one, and another powering Atlantis. But they don't last forever, and the one on Earth is already partially drained."

Don worked hard to keep his mind from thinking about the enormity of what Mitchell had just said, focusing only on threats. The threat to Earth, the threat of Mitchell. "And you think these…_ZPMs_ can protect Earth." It was as much a statement as a question.

"We haven't been exploring the galaxy for no reason. We have a device now, that with enough power can create an alternate dimensional protective bubble thing," he stumbled with his explanation, not because he was making it up, but because he didn't understand the science behind it, and oddly, that actually made Don feel better. "The point is, it can take Earth out of the way of enemy fire, but it would drain a ZPM dry, if one was even enough. We need this power source. Too much is at stake."

Watching him, Don couldn't deny the man's sincerity, or his integrity. He finally took a step back, but with a shake of his head, he bluntly stated, "You still had no right to bring us here, especially without warning."

Beside him Charlie shifted, half turning back to the window as he worriedly remarked, "Dad's going to be so pissed."

"Look," Mitchell said, trying to placate them, "I'll send some friends to him. While we're still close enough we can set up a live feed so you guys can talk to him."

Charlie turned back in shock. "We're at nine hundred and fifty six light years away already. That's close?"

"Just give me a couple hours to set it up."

Don knew Charlie was already calculating how far from Earth they'd be in a couple hours and once again he felt the room start to spin. For Don, he wasn't even sure how far a light year really was, and he was damn sure he really didn't want to know.

Of all the things his gut had been warning him about, this hadn't been one of them. This hadn't even come close.

x.x.x.x.x

When Megan saw Agent Barrett walk out of the room on his phone, alone, she immediately stood up in alarm. David and Colby took immediate notice and Colby quickly asked, "Megan, what's wrong?" But she couldn't answer them.

From the moment Charlie had broken that encryption Megan had been on edge. She'd seen a glimpse of the screen before it'd been turned off, and knew at once it was a math equation. From everyone's reaction, especially Don's, she knew it was the one Charlie was working on for the Air Force. It wasn't hard to deduce then that that meant Weaver was here for Charlie.

Following her instincts, the moment Don had sent them out of the room, Megan had called in to the LAPD to put a uniform on Alan Eppes. Don and Charlie were here, so once they knew what was going on they could go from there. From the look on Don's face, she doubted he was about to let Charlie out of his sight for even a second.

But where was Don? Not really hearing David or Colby, Megan quickly walked up to Barrett, catching him before Agent Grey could. Yet when she opened her mouth to demand an explanation, her eyes scanned the room, finding it empty.

"What the Hell?" She pushed past the agent, needing to verify what her eyes were telling her. The room really was empty. But that wasn't possible. There was no other way out and she'd been watching the door, waiting. "Where's Don and Charlie?" She demanded, feeling a fire suddenly burning through her veins.

Barrett seem unperturbed, responding calmly, "They've gone into protective custody."

"What?" David exploded even as Colby exclaimed, "That doesn't make any sense."

Megan had to agree, especially since she knew her boss well enough to know he'd never have just left. With all the misgivings he'd been having lately, there was no way he'd have consented. Not to mention it didn't explain how they'd gotten out of the room without being seen.

"I'm sure your boss will be calling you in soon to tell you himself, but the fact is, it's not safe for them as long as Weavers is out there. So I suggest you focus on your jobs and help me catch him."

"That encoded message, it's the stuff Charlie's working on, isn't it?" She stated, more to see what Barrett would say than to confirm her suspicions.

"Yes. But I can't show it to you. It's classified. What it does tell us is that Weaver's target is Charlie, weather to kill him or to steal the work, I don't know."

Colby swore, but it didn't turn any heads. Megan felt like swearing as well. With a hard voice full of anger she demanded, "How can we do our jobs and protect Charlie if you don't tell us where they are?"

"I can't tell you. But trust me, they're completely safe where they are now."

She wanted to slug the man and half stepped forward to do just that, her hand clenching at her side, but then Walt Merrick was suddenly calling to her, motioning from the other side of the bullpen for her to come to his office. She settled for a glare at the NID agent, and then responded to her boss' beckoning.

Walking into his office she began talking before he could say anything. "Sir, Agent Eppes and his brother just went missing-"

But he cut her off before she could even say that it was right from under their noses. "I know. I just had a call from the Secretary of Defense, telling me that we were not to pursue looking for them, that they were part of a project of the highest security, and that they might be gone for some time."

He settled into his chair looking disgruntled, confused, and definitely exasperated. Megan was beginning to feel the same way. "The Secretary of Defense?"

"Yes, and _then_," Walt stated, looking even more upset, "The _President_ called to apologize for any disruption it might have caused to our work, and said that Agent Eppes was a fine upstanding agent, and he certainly hoped there wouldn't be any repercussions when he got back."

Megan felt her limbs go numb and she sat down in shock. Walt leaned across his desk towards her, "Agent Reeves, just what the hell is going on?"

"I don't know." She shook her head trying to collect her thoughts. "It has something to do with a project Charlie's working on for the Air Force. We just found evidence that links the merc we're chasing to that project."

Walt shook his head with exasperation. "Then I suggest you find that _merc_ as soon as possible so my agent can come back. Reeves, until further notice you're in charge of Eppes' team. Don't screw this up."

It wasn't a very encouraging meeting, but taking the dismissal, Megan left. Colby and David meeting her half way back. "Well?" David asked.

Megan had to take a moment before she could answer them. "We can't look for Don and Charlie, but we need to find Weaver."

She only hoped that would be enough to bring their boss home.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan knew something was up the moment he spotted the cop car parked outside his house. He knew something was wrong when we tried dialing both Charlie and Don without an answer. Just as he was going to call Don's office, his phone rang. It was Megan.

He sat down heavily on the couch as he listened to her tell him everything she knew. She kept reassuring him that his sons were fine, but he could hear it in her voice, she wasn't sure. Alan couldn't stop the feelings of betrayal that rose. It was like a punch to the gut. He'd allowed the Colonel to come into their house, to work with Charlie, and now he'd taken them.

She talked about the danger he might be in, the precautions she wanted to take until they caught this guy, this guy who wanted his Charlie. Alan barely heard her, agreeing to everything only to keep her talking. He wanted to know more, he needed to know for sure if his boys were okay. Except she kept telling him they were, while at the same time telling him she didn't know where they were.

It was too much of an opposition for him to know what to believe. When they hung up Alan stayed on the couch, not moving, just waiting. If his boys really were okay, they'd call.

Ten minutes later, an FBI agent showed up, saying he was there to keep an eye on things. Alan remembered that was one of the precautions Megan had talked about and invited the agent in, but he went right back to the couch. To wait.

An hour later Amita showed up. "Hey Alan, what's going on?" She asked, eyeing the agent standing in the corner.

He looked up at her as she came in, the agent had tensed for a second, but upon recognizing that she wasn't a threat had gone back to his casual stance. Alan stood up to greet Amita, but he really didn't know what to say. He really didn't know what was going on. "Charlie and Don had to go into protective custody," Alan told her, latching onto words Megan had used on him.

Alarm washed over her face. "What? Why?"

He shook his head, not sure himself. "Something to do with that math problem he's working on."

"Well, are they okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're fine," Alan quickly reassured her, because it was easier to reassure someone else than yourself. But she saw right through him, and he cringed at the worry in her eyes, imagining his was much worse.

"How about I stay here with you," she quickly suggested.

He knew it was a gesture as much to comfort her as to comfort him, but Alan was grateful for it anyway. Waiting was always easier with more than one person. "I'd like that."

So then it was the two of them on the couch waiting. Alan had turned on the television, but he knew neither of them was actually watching it.

Another hour passed and then there was a knock at the door causing Alan to jump. He was expecting a ring, not a knock, and if it was his sons they wouldn't _need_ to knock, but Alan was still hopeful. It was only as the watching agent tensed that Alan hesitated. Then, with a strong breath, he opened the door, surprised to find a woman on his doorstep. She positively beamed up at him, one hand playing with her long black hair. The only thing that made her suspicious was that she was carrying a laptop bag exactly like the one the Colonel had had.

"Hi, are you Alan Eppes?"

"Yes."

She shot her hand out to shake his with a bit more enthusiasm than Alan felt was normal. "Hi, I'm Vala Mal Doran, pleased to meet you." And she shook his hand with a bit more enthusiasm than normal, too.

"I'm sorry, what can I do for you?"

"Oh. I'm here to help you connect to your sons." She said brightly. "Can I come in?" and then she pushed her way past Alan into the house.

Alan's heart both leaped and soared. "You know where my sons are?"

The woman had stopped, eyeing the agent in the corner who looked very much like he was about to pull his gun, and then Amita on the couch. She spun back around, saying with a confident smile, "Yes, I do. And they are perfectly safe." As if that alone was supposed to reassure him.

Alan closed the door. "Then where are they?"

She hesitated, once again looking at the agent. "I can't tell you." And then encouraged, "But I'm here so you can talk to them, you know," she tapped the laptop bag at her side, "with this computer thingy." Then she took another look around, "Only, I didn't know you'd have company." And she eyed the agent again, noticeably sizing him up with her eyes and a flirtatious smile.

Alan wasn't in the mood for games. "If you have a way for me to talk to my sons, then do it."

"Okay, okay, just, let me make a call real fast." And before he could demand more she had her cell phone out. But when the person at the other end of the line answered, she had to quickly pull the phone away. It was on speakerphone.

"Daniel." The mysterious voice answered. Alan didn't know him, and it certainly wasn't the Colonel's.

"Daniel, it's Vala. I'm here, but he's got company."

The agent tensed again, but didn't actually pull his gun. Alan figured that if this woman was a terrorist, she was certainly an odd one. He didn't like this, but he doubted she was a threat to them. Amita got up and walked over to Alan, gripping his arm for quiet reassurance as they listened to the strange woman's conversation. Vala had tried to take the phone off of speaker, but obviously not knowing her cell phone that well soon gave up.

"How many?" Daniel asked.

"Ah, a girl, way too young for him, and a strong handsome man I'm assuming works for the government."

Amita opened her mouth to protest Vala's assumptions, but Alan quickly shushed her. He didn't want to give away that they could hear.

"That's fine. Get it hooked up," Daniel said.

"Well, I just thought you should know since you said they're be one, but there were three-"

"Vala, just hook it up!" Daniel exclaimed sounding impatient. "The Daedalus won't be in range for much longer. I'm walking into the FBI building now, so we should be ready to conference in five minutes."

"Okay, okay," Vala grumbled acting like she'd been reprimanded. When she hung up, she turned another bright smile on them. "Right. So, this won't take long," and she put her bag on the table emptying it's contents. But she wasn't encouraging him when she looked at the various pieces as if she'd never used them before.

And hearing that her partner was going into Don's offices, or perhaps it was another FBI building, but he really didn't know if that was encouraging or not. Certainly the idea that time was short, wasn't.

Restless, he waited for the strange woman to finish. Always waiting.

x.x.x.x.x

Megan was frustrated. It'd only been a couple hours since Don's peculiar disappearance and already she missed him. Colby and David seemed okay enough with following her direction, and Agent Barrett was actually an easy guy to work with, once she stopped being so completely pissed off at him. He was smart, calm, and made a point of relinquishing to her lead, forcing Grey to go along when his partner hedged.

The problem was, Megan wasn't used to being in charge, of a specific operation, sure, but she was a profiler, and all she wanted to do was follow up on leads herself. To focus on her little bit rather than try to keep it all in mind. Don may have referred to Charlie for the math, but there was a certain amount of logic involved in running as lead of a case. If Don had thought they were too dependent on their brother, he'd be sorely disappointed to see them now.

Putting down the phone with perhaps a bit more force than needed, she leaned back with a sigh. It just didn't help that all she wanted to do was look for Don and Charlie, and that was the very thing they _couldn't_ do.

Agent Barrett walked up to her desk with another man in tow. She knew at a glance he didn't belong. Aside from the bag around his shoulder that looked far too familiar, the man had the unease of someone who'd never been around so many Feds before. That, plus a general look of being some sort of analyst or scientist, coupled with an easy combat stance that spoke volumes, had her immediately on edge.

"Agent Reeves. This is Daniel Jackson. I think he can answer some of the concerns I know you still have about the Eppes' welfare," Barrett greeted.

She sat up slowly. "Okay."

Jackson smiled, a charming casual smile that reminded her far too much of Colonel Mitchell. "Is there some place we can talk in private?"

She pursed her lips, hesitating. The best place was the same room Don and Charlie had disappeared from. And when they had, they'd been with a man carrying the same kind of bag Jackson had. All her profiling abilities told her this man wasn't a threat, but they'd said the same thing about Mitchell. In the end, her need to know won out over any caution. "Follow me."

Megan wasn't sure if it was a relief or not that Barrett didn't come with them, and when Jackson began to pull out his laptop and a satellite link plus another box she guessed was likely an encoder, she dared to ask him, "You know Colonel Mitchell?"

"Yes," Jackson answered with open honesty. "I'm part of his team."

"Then you're with the Air Force."

"Ah, actually, I'm an archeologist, but I do work with the military."

She noted his use of _military_ instead of _Air Force_. It lined up with the fact that this 'project' seemed to run higher than any single agency. "So what is it you're here to tell me?"

"Actually, I'm here to so you can talk to them." Jackson had finished what he was doing and moved away to so she could see the screen. It was clear now that the small bits of equipment were for video conferencing, and much to her relief a clear view of Don appeared on the screen.

She surged forward, gabbing a chair to sit in front of the screen and it's little camera. "Don! Are you okay? Where's Charlie?"

"I'm here, Megan," Charlie stated, sliding into view while half pushing his bother out. It was obvious there was only chair to sit on in front of the camera lens.

Don grimaced, but quickly said, "We're fine. Have you seen dad?"

"I talked to him on the phone and sent a couple agents over to watch him. Don, what happened?" She took in as much as she could, both of the brothers and their background, just in case they needed help after all. Of the background, there wasn't much to see except the occasional passing of someone in blue pants, and perhaps something that could be part of some sort of computer workstation behind them.

The brothers on the other hand look haggard, and as Megan carefully studied Don's expressions, she knew he wasn't happy with his situation. There was a darkness to his eyes, an anger she rarely saw in her boss, and never without good cause, but he didn't seem as on edge as she expected.

"I'm not allowed to say," he told her, saying more with his tone of voice than with his words. Then he sighed, suddenly looking more stressed than Megan had ever seen her boss get, and they thrived on stressful situations. With a rueful look, he told her, "You probably wouldn't believe me if I could."

"Eppes." It was Colonel Mitchell's voice, from somewhere off screen, and while it wasn't in any way hostile, the warning was clear.

Don shot a glare off screen, then turning back to pressing business, told Megan, "Don't bother trying to look for us."

"Are you sure?" It was all there in her one question, all her loyalty, all her intentions, and all her trust.

He wouldn't have to say anything, he just had to give her that look, and she could come after them no matter what anyone told her. But he didn't, instead, he said, more firmly, "Yes. We're fine. Just keep dad safe, and find Weaver."

Then Charlie jumped in, his eyes anxiously scanning what she assumed was their little screen. "Is dad there? We were supposed to get to talk to him."

Megan shook her head, and when she glanced over at Jackson, she saw a concerned look on his face that sent shivers up her spine. "Vala should have gotten it connected by now, she was at the Eppes house before I got here."

The panic in Charlie's eyes and the tightening of Don's jaw was unmistakable and Megan half reached for her phone, but Colonel Mitchell's voice cut in again, "Are you sure Vala even knows how to hook the sat link up?"

"It's not that hard. She said she knew how."

"Daniel," the Colonel growled out with exasperation and a moment later Daniel had his phone out.

There was a tense moment as they waited to see if anyone would answer, but someone must have picked up at the other end because Daniel asked into the phone, "Vala, what's taking so long?"

There was a pause and then he sighed, his free hand rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It's not like a Tal'tec Osulator. Look, the wires are color coated. Red end, red slot, black end, black slot." He moved off as he talked but it was clear the problem at the other end was purely technical.

Megan found herself releasing a slow breath in relief. Thankfully, this conveyed itself across the screen and she noted the brothers relaxing as well, although Don's jaw only got tighter. Taking the few moments she had to talk with out the interference of an emotionally strained family reunion, Megan updated Don on the case.

Don listened patiently as she hurriedly blurted out as many details as possible. As she had hoped, he made a few suggestions, places to try looking, angles to follow she hadn't thought of before. Even Charlie gave input, saying that if Weaver was after the math, he might need a mathematician to confirm the work. They really didn't know if Weaver had intended to steal the work when it was done, steal Charlie, or just stop the operation altogether.

She made a small inquiry, wondering how far along Charlie had been in the problem, but quickly regretted it. For a few minutes, even though they were probably several miles apart, things had almost felt normal again. Charlie was the mathematician on the case, and Don was still the team lead, giving advice and direction.

Charlie didn't answer her question and with a look of concern at his brother, Don changed the subject. "How's the team?"

"We're okay," Megan lied, and then honestly told him, "wishing you were here." He could read her tone of voice as well as she knew his.

"Merrick put you in charge, right? You'll do fine, Megan, just keep it to the case."

Anyone who didn't know Don Eppes wouldn't understand what he was trying to say, but the Eppes obsession was something that ran in the family. Keep it simple, and don't stop till it's done. It was a work ethic that had unconsciously been passed down to his team members, but Megan really didn't think she was up to the task of filling his shoes.

The best she could do was state, "We'll find Weaver. I promise."

He nodded, showing just how much confidence he had in her with that small motion. Then another window suddenly popped up on the screen and Megan found herself letting out another breath of relief as Alan Eppes along with Amita showed up on the screen.

Alan's face lit up and she knew he must be able to see his boys. "Charlie, Donnie! Where are you? Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?"

Megan's lips twitched with a small smile as Alan asked much the same questions she had. She leaned back, happy just to listen. Now that she knew the brothers were safe.

"Dad, Amita!" Charlie exclaimed, his face filled with more emotions than it could reflect, leaving his expression to change rapidly between worry, relief, concern, and even guilt. "I'm sorry we couldn't call."

"Dad, you okay?" Don asked over Charlie, leaning forward and half pushing Charlie back out of the screen.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Nothing's happened here. Megan said you boys are in protective custody? I don't understand. Why couldn't the FBI protect you if you're in trouble?"

"It's cause of that problem Charlie's working on. They," Don hedged and a myriad of emotions flittered across his face as well before they settled on determined disapproval. "Felt it needed to have an extra level of protection around it."

"He said they wouldn't interfere," Alan stated looking just as angry as Don, but without the control. "He said he understood Charlie's need for his family." There was no need to say it went both ways, or who the 'he' was Alan was referring too. Indeed, an uncomfortable cough came from off screen, but Alan just continued, "Was everything he told us just bullshit? Did that contract he made us sign mean nothing?"

It was hard to hear Alan swear. He was usually such a friendly man. Don's face got even tighter if that was possible, but with a glance off screen it was clear he agreed with his father's accusations. Charlie, on the other hand, flinched as if the words were directed at him. "Dad, it's really very important," he tried to say, his voice quiet, uncertain, pleading.

Alan immediately backed down, although Megan noticed there was still a slight tremor to his voice. "Charlie, I know what you do is important. Everything you do is important. I just want to know you're safe."

"We are, we really are. I," Charlie hesitated, and as Don leaned back with a slight look of disgust on his face, Charlie leaned in so close his face momentarily blotted out Don's. "Dad I really wish you were here. Believe me, if Don wasn't with me I'd…" but with an uncertain glance away he changed everything he was going to say. "Dad, this work is very important. It could really help save lives, I know it could take a while, but I really really want to try to solve it for them."

He was outright pleading now, and even Megan would crack under his look. But then Amita, who'd stayed quiet till now suddenly asked, "How long are you going to be gone, Charlie?" She had more reasons to want to know than just because she was concerned for his safety. All the love the two lovers had was reflected on their faces, but suddenly Megan knew the answer wasn't going to be good.

Jumping in, she firmly stated, "We'll find Weaver soon, then it should be safe for you both to come back."

Yet even as she said it, she already knew that wasn't going to make a single bit of difference. Charlie opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to be choking on his emotions, so much so it was Don who finally replied. "It doesn't matter. It takes three weeks to get to the place they're taking us. Contact won't be possible while we're there, and they estimate we'll be gone about two months."

"_Two months?"_ Alan exclaimed in outrage. "Where are they taking you, TimBuckTwo?"

But these days even TimBuckTwo could be reached in a day. There wasn't anywhere on Earth that couldn't be reached in a day. Megan wasn't sure why, but their news sent shivers through her.

"Charlie?" Amita questioned, her voice breaking with worry.

"I'm sorry, Amita. I wish it wasn't like this. Can you talk to the board, and explain? Maybe since Larry's back to teaching now he could take over a couple of my classes," Charlie pleaded, his voice dripping with apology. But from the expression on Don's face, his brother wasn't to be blamed for their new circumstances.

"Yeah, yeah," she quickly agreed, her face stricken even as she forced a smile on her face. "I'm going to miss you."

"Two months should go by quickly," he reassured, giving her the most charming smile he could muster. "At least we're not near finals."

She actually laughed at his joke, but it was forced. Alan was visibly struggling with the idea that his sons wouldn't be coming home any time soon. Then, with a rather poignant sigh, he turned completely paternal. "Have you got everything you need? Enough food, provisions?"

"They're not starving us, dad," Charlie told him with a hesitant laugh, but then he suddenly gasped. "My music!"

Alan jumped on his chance. "I could make up a couple bags for you boys, toothbrush, change of clothes."

Charlie open and closed his mouth looking completely stricken. Don had that disapproving look again, but he all too diplomatically stated, "Thanks Dad, but we'll have to make do. We're already on route. And I don't think these guys are will to turn this thing around."

Looking just as displeased as his oldest son, Alan grumbled, "Okay. I'll be here when you boys get back."

Then something strange happened. There was no flicker of movement or show of static to signify a bad transmission, just an extra second's pause. Alan noted it too, saying, "Charlie? Donnie?"

But then even as he said their names, Don started talking as if he hadn't heard, "Dad, as soon as we can we'll contact you again." Then there was a flicker of confusion on their faces, and Megan noticed the pause again, and even as Don questioned, "Dad?" Alan had been trying to demand that they better send notice.

Then Amita remarked over the line, "Charlie, we're getting some lag."

Frustration was mirrored on everyone's face, but instinctually, Megan knew the call would be coming to an end. Don confirmed it, saying, "We're going to have to go. Dad, I promise I'll look after Charlie. We'll send a message as soon as we can. Megan, keep my dad safe and find Weaver!"

"I will, boss," she promised, fully meaning it.

The Eppes said their goodbyes, too, keeping it short as that strange lag only got worse. When the screens went black, Megan sat back in the chair with a drawn out sigh. Daniel Jackson silently began to disconnect and pack up the equipment. She watched him, once again noting the contrasts.

He'd said he was an archeologist, a scientist, but he was extremely fit, and his stance had the natural movements of an experience fighter. It wasn't dissimilar to the way Colby moved or stood at times, always on guard, but not. She guessed it had come about from working with military. Charlie was a scientist, too, but he still had the complete geek look to him. There had been a few changes from his time working with them, but nothing no noticeable. Yet she couldn't help but wonder if given enough time Charlie would change this much, too.

"Will you been joining them? Where they are?"

Daniel half turned, and with a half smile, said, "No. I wish I was." And his eyes gleaned the way Charlie's did when he saw an exciting new math problem in his head. That only confirmed that this man hadn't completely lost his science side, but it didn't help her feelings of worry any.

"Tell me, this place they're going. Are they really safer there than here?"

He nodded. "Yes." But there was a flicker in his eyes that spoke of uncertainty. If she hadn't been watching so closely, or if she hadn't been a profiler by profession, she probably would have missed it.

She also knew she wasn't going to get anything else. Standing up, she curtly said, "Thank you for coming."

He smiled, a charming disarming smile, but it had no effect on Megan. She just wanted him out of her office as fast as possible. He seemed to pick up on that, and pulling his bag over his shoulder preceded her out of the room. It was time for her to do the things her boss had told her to do. Find Weaver and eliminate the threat to the Eppes family.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie stared at the screen with concentration. It wasn't the same as working with whiteboards, or, as he preferred, his chalkboards, but the ship didn't have those. They didn't even have the glass windows like the FBI office had for him to scribble all over. He'd tried using the metallic walls, and even now several equations decorated the room they'd given him as a temporary office. Unfortunately, he discovered the markers were of a more permanent variety, making it incredibly hard to do his work.

Several of the ship's occupants had donated their notebooks and pencils, and one kind soul had even given up his ipod, but it still wasn't good enough. The paper felt too small to Charlie. So, in the end he had finally resorted to the multiple screens. He even discovered a feature that allowed the screen to project against a wall, making it that much bigger.

He couldn't help it, he had to see it all. Just in case he missed something.

It wasn't the comfort of his garage, but it was still easy for Charlie to get lost in the math. In the two days they'd been on the Daedalus, Charlie hadn't seen much of the ship past the initial tour. But in a way that seemed better. There were far too many things to distract him here, and if he had his way, he wanted to have this problem done by the time they got to Atlantis. The lure of learning more about the alien technology had become a bit of a driving force for Charlie, but even the Colonel had said it. This problem had to come first.

Don would probably laugh at Charlie, if he wasn't asleep. With a smile, Charlie looked to the corner of the room where his brother was 'relaxing.' With the safety of the ship, Cameron no longer stood vigilant watch over Charlie and the work, but another had only replaced his shadow, and it was a far more noticeable presence.

He knew his brother wasn't really sleeping, and even now, if Charlie were to so much as tap a pencil on the table he knew Don would instantly wake up. It'd been clear right from the start that Don didn't like being there. The hostility he showed towards Cameron was clearly visible, likely why the Colonel hadn't done more than a quick check in on them from time to time.

Charlie thought Don was being ridiculous and had told his brother so, but Don shrugged it off, refusing to talk about it. With a sigh, Charlie turned the borrowed ipod on, hearing his brother stir from even that slight noise as Charlie put the ear buds on. It wasn't his normal selection of music, lacked the rhythm he preferred, but it was eclectic enough not to bug him, and soon everything was tuned out as numbers once more filled his mind.

With habit he reached for a marker, thankfully finding a computer styling pen instead. It wouldn't do to keep writing on the walls.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan put his books down on the table with a sigh. The house was still too empty. This wasn't the first time he'd lived here alone. When his wife had gone to Princeton to look after Charlie, Donnie had gone to Collage at the same time. And while he had technically still lived at home, he'd been there even less than now, especially once he'd suddenly switched careers to join the FBI.

Sitting, Alan wasn't sure what to do, he still had his own guards around him, following him to school, home, the center downtown, and even to Millie's. He hadn't told Millie much past that it was just a precaution because of the case his boys were working on. She hadn't pushed, which had been a relief, but everyone else did. Larry kept dropping by, to 'see how he was,' along with the members of Don's team. And Amita, well, Amita had all but moved in, in Charlie's absence, but that, Alan didn't mind so much.

She wasn't home right now, kept busy at the school as she and Larry graciously covered all of Charlie's responsibilities.

Life itself, except that it felt quieter to him now, had mostly returned to some semblance of a routine. Still, Alan knew he was waiting. Waiting to hear from his sons, and waiting to know that this guy Don's team was chasing had been caught. Even though Don had said they'd be gone for a while regardless, Alan still hoped that if the threat to them was gone that they'd be able to come home that much sooner.

There was a knock at the door, and then it opened, Megan's head poking in as she called, "Alan?"

He motioned her in, immediately noticing the change in her persona. The last few days had left everyone tense, but while she looked completely worn out there was a difference, a look of relief. Perhaps he could stop waiting, at least partially.

Megan smiled, confirming his suspicion as she said, "I wanted to tell you in person, we got him. Weaver's being transported to a high security prison as we speak. We even found out that the hit had already been rescinded by the time we got to him. Barrett thinks it's because it got around that Don and Charlie weren't here anymore. He also thinks there won't be any further threat when they get back."

"And you believe him?"

Megan sighed. "Yeah. Actually I do." For once, Alan was glad to see Megan so tired, it meant she didn't have the energy to try lying to him. Well, if she was sure, that was good enough for him.

Making a decision, Alan clapped his hands together. "Well, you look like you need something to eat."

She shook her head, but had already sunk into a chair and didn't look ready to get up again. "I can't stay long."

"Nonsense. You can stay long enough to get something to eat. What would Donnie think if I let you leave without doing at least that after such great news." He motioned to one of the other two agents that shadowed him everywhere. "You, too, Gary. Go find your partner and I'll make us all a nice stir fry."

Agent Gary Winters looked startled, then glanced at Megan in hesitation, but Megan could only smile, her shoulders shaking with silent mirth. Looking even more tired than before, but relaxed for the first time in days, she finally said, answering both Alan and Gary's silent question, "Sounds great, Alan."

"Good." He turned and strode into the kitchen, ready to make a feast if he needed to, but before he could do anything he found himself gripping the kitchen counter, breathing in hard quick breaths.

He hadn't realized just how tense he'd been over the last few days until finally it all just seemed to be coming out of him. His whole body was shaking, and it took several minutes for it to stop. He was just getting control again when to his surprise he felt a hand on his back.

Turning, he looked into Megan's understanding face. "This might take a bit, you should have a beer," he told her, trying to ignore what had just happened.

She just smiled, calmly telling him, "It's okay, Alan. It's really okay."

He sighed. Not _all_ the stress had left with the news, but he could at least move again without shaking. "Yeah? Then why can't they come home?"

"I don't know," Megan said, once again too tired to not be completely honest.

x.x.x.x.x

Don fidgeted with the clothes he was wearing. BDUs that had come in a large variety of colors. Most of the people on the ship stuck with the blue to mark them as Air Force, while another smaller group was in camouflage green, marines apparently. Colonel Mitchell, and Colonel Caldwell, the commander of the Daedalus both seemed to prefer the solid green over black shirts.

They had made it a point to supply Don with ample choices. Everything but normal every days clothes. What he wouldn't give to even have his jeans. It was just his luck he'd been in full work suit at the time of their…abduction?

Shaking his head, Don tried to push his emotions to the side. Everyone here had been perfectly civil to the brothers, some were even apologetic, which somehow made things worse. Even Mitchell, who Don found an easy target for his anger, had taken the brunt of Don's blows with tact. Grudgingly, Don had to give the man some credit for that.

Once again tiredly picking at his clothes, Don examined himself in the mirror. He'd finally settle on wearing mostly black, finding the multi pocketed pants and shirt the least military looking set of the bunch. Rolling up the sleeves, he clipped his badge and gun to his belt as he had every day. So far no one had made a comment about either. By now, Don doubted they would.

He was sure they were making a few exceptions for his sake. They'd certainly shown genuine care for his brother, even sending meals to the lab from time to time. Don guessed that was where Charlie was now.

It'd been five days, and Charlie had barely left the lab, even to sleep. Neither had Don, and even now had only grudgingly gone to his 'room' for a shower and change because Charlie had started to complain. Charlie wasn't nearly so intimidated by the changes they'd had to make. Which both surprised and terrified Don.

He figured it was just because of the math Charlie was working on. Math always seemed to come first in Charlie's mind, but his subconscious wondered if perhaps Charlie was just more open than Don. Pushing that thought away, Don stepped out of his room, glancing one way than the other before he started down the hall.

For a space ship, it wasn't anything like Don imagined. For starters, it was big. Bigger than the largest submarine, with enough space to house a crew of five hundred with plenty of room to spare. If push came to shove, he figured they could fit a few thousand on board. But that was only considering space constraints. Don had no idea what it took to keep a space ship livable.

The air certainly seemed normal, if a little dry, like it was on planes. And the very fact that Don was walking normally along the hallway was a testament to how much more advanced the technology was here. There was still a difference, a slip pull where there normally wasn't, but a somewhat lighter step than Don was used to. Artificial gravity. A miracle of science. The miracle of _alien_ science.

Don made a face. As far as he knew there were no aliens on this ship, but then Mitchell had said the galaxy was mostly populated by humans, so what really constituted an alien? Somehow he figured he was bound to meet one when they got to Atlantis. An entire city built by aliens had to have at least one in it.

Then Don reached Charlie's lab, and as the doors opened, Don found himself staring at a real live honest to goodness _alien_.

The creature couldn't have been more than four feet tall and looked like something out of a person's worst nightmare. Arms and legs too long to be normal, a slim naked gray body, small mouth and two extremely large opalescent black eyes that blinked at him. And Charlie was _talking_ to it.

"So your species never worked with multi-dimensional technology?"

"No." It's voice was low, hypnotic, and altogether too alien sounding. "It was decided that dimensional alterations was far too dangerous to be tampered with."

"But didn't you have an alliance with the Ancients? Wouldn't that mean you shared technology?" Charlie asked with pure curiosity.

Don just stared, stepping in only as the door tried to close on him. Charlie had half his attention on a screen he was working with and the other half on the alien. He didn't notice Don at all. The alien turned its big black eyes on the agent, but merely blinked, and then turning back answered his brother in that same strange sounding voice. "I have learned that what humans considered 'part of an alliance' is far different than the intentions of most people. Plus," he added, actually sounding thoughtful. "by the time the great alliance had been formed, the plague had already started to spread across your galaxy, killing those you call the Ancients."

"I didn't know that," Charlie stated with curiosity. "Still, it would have been nice to have help with this."

Once again the alien turned its head to Don, blinking at him. Don cautiously took another step further into the room, closer to the alien. "Um, hey Charlie."

Charlie looked over at him, his face lighting up in a smile. "Hi Don! You look better. I was wondering if you were planning on growing a beard for a while there."

Don didn't respond to his brother's jibe. His eyes couldn't seem to leave the little gray alien watching him. "Um. What…who…" He was great at tact when it came to working with people, government types, civilians, even the annoying politicians, but Don didn't have a clue how to treat an alien.

"Oh, this is Hermiod. I found him in the computer. Apparently he's a copy of a program from another ship, the Odyssey I think. More than that, he's a replica of the real Hermiod, an Asgard. I guess their entire database and a lot of their technology is integrated into the Odyssey. Cameron said the Daedalus is still making the upgrades so the database here isn't nearly as extensive. But Hermiod's been really helpful."

Don found himself unconsciously grinding his teeth at the mention of the Colonel, but forcing himself to relax he took yet another step closer. So, not really an alien, a computer copy of an alien. Still looked real to him. He wasn't sure how one properly greeted a computer-generated alien and finally settled on a nod. The alien nodded back, blinking once again. Strange how expressive the two black eyes seemed to be.

Don took a deep breath, forcing his gaze away. "So. Making any headway?"

He knew it was a loaded question, but it was better than dealing with the alien. Don found his usual chair and settled in to listen as Charlie rambled around the math. Don didn't understand a single word of it, even the sections Charlie dummified for him, only in part due to the four foot distraction standing at his side. Mostly, Don wasn't really listening. This math had no importance to Don. He just knew he had to support Charlie. So he always asked, and always pretended like he was listening. But really Don's mind was on a hundred other things. Mainly, about home.

x.x.x.x.x

Cameron tapped into the security cameras to find both Eppes brother exactly where he expected them to be. The first couple days he'd tried to check in on them in person, but not wanting to aggravate his already thin treaty with Special Agent Don Eppes, Cameron had taken to checking on them at a distance, instead. The FBI Agent obviously still held a grudge against him, and in truth, Cameron found he really couldn't blame the man.

He was used to crazy situations and sudden change in plans, so it wasn't until he'd been watching them talk to their father that Cameron had realized Don Eppes had been right. What he'd done, bringing them here like he had, it was wrong. Even if it was the only way to guarantee their safety from the Trust.

Cameron sighed, turning the monitor off again. He just wished he could make it up to them somehow. With them in the height of the Ori war there was no way they could risk sending a transmission to Earth unless it was an emergency. The last thing they needed was the Ori to discover the Pegasus Galaxy. But they were close enough now to the gate bridge station that they could send a transmission there with minimal risk. And they in turn could use the gatebridge to get it back to Earth.

Feeling like he had a plan in mind, Cameron went to find Colonel Caldwell in the hopes of putting the plan in action. He wasn't on the bridge, but someone quickly redirected Cameron to the mess hall. Looking in, he spotted the Colonel eating alone and reading something off a tablet, most likely a report. Sliding by the counter, Cameron picked up a Jello and spoon and made his way over as casually as possible.

"Mind if I join you, sir?"

Unlike Cameron, who was a Lieutenant Colonel, Caldwell was full-bird, a rank higher, but over the year the Colonel had lost much of the military formalities. Most people who worked with the stargate had. Right down to the point that no one bothered to salute unless the officer was in dress uniform.

Caldwell glanced up at him and Cameron suddenly had the feeling that Caldwell had already guessed Cameron wanted something. With half a sigh, Caldwell replied, "Go ahead." Turning back to his report.

It was a sham, and they both knew it, but Cameron sat down anyway and even ate half his Jello before finally asking. "I was wondering, sir, if we could send a data burst to Earth."

"Is it an emergency?" Caldwell didn't even look up and Cameron already knew the answer would be no, so he rushed on with his idea.

"No, but we're close enough now we could send it to the gatebridge station. This far out in the middle of nowhere there's practically zero risk."

Now the head came up and Caldwell regarded him with a searching gaze. "This is for the Eppes', isn't it?"

Cameron shrugged. "Three weeks is a long time to wait for a message from them."

"And?" Caldwell dragged out, somehow knowing there was more to it.

Avoiding an immediate answer with a spoonful of Jello, Cameron finally said, "I need to make a peace offering."

Caldwell just huffed with silent laughter, a smile quirking his lips as he half turned back to reading his report. While Caldwell hadn't said it, the answer was still no, so Cameron pushed, "He doesn't like me."

"He doesn't know you."

But Cameron wasn't sure if Caldwell was saying that to mean it in a good way or a bad way. Caldwell was a great tactician, but it wasn't beneath Cameron to beg. "Sir, I think it would go a long way towards improving things with the IOA if an FBI Agent of such known reputation came back with a good impression of our operations."

This time Caldwell did sigh. "Colonel-"

"_Please?"_

Cameron waited with baited breath and Caldwell once again stared at him with searching eyes, his lips thinning as he did. "Fine, Colonel. You have my permission to send a data burst to the gate station, but I'm not changing our schedule to wait around for a reply. Understand?"

He couldn't stop from smiling. "Yes, sir, thank you, sir." Interpreting Caldwell's slight shake of the head as a dismissal, Cameron finished his Jello in a hurry and quickly left.

When he walked into the lab he was in great spirits. That quickly changed. Neither of the brothers reacted to his suggestion quite the way he'd expected.

"We could have sent a message to our dad all this time?" Don demanded.

"No. Well, yes, but no. It's only for emergencies."

"Then what's changed?" Charlie asked even as Don, stiffening up, demanded, "What kind of emergencies? Are we in danger?"

There was always some kind of danger, it came with the territory, but Cameron wanted to avoid that discussion, especially with Don so close. It had been over a week but Cameron was still expecting that punch.

"No, you guys are completely safe. Look, we're getting close to the gate bridge." He pulled up a diagram on a screen, careful not to accidentally erase any of Charlie's work. Both brothers stared at it only barely comprehending what it meant. Charlie more than Don, but mostly because, as Cameron had discovered, Charlie had started to delve into the science behind the stargate. Cameron suspected Don didn't even know what a stargate was yet.

Charlie leaned in, his eyes bright with curiosity. For a moment it reminded him of Daniel, and for not the first time that week he long for his team. Even Vala. "How long does it take to travel through the gates? I'm assuming there's a program that allows for synchronize dialing and transferring of matter in the memory buffers without the requirement of re-materialization?"

Don grimaced and suddenly turned away, but he snapped back around when Cameron answered, "Thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes?" Don exclaimed. "But we're stuck on this ship for three weeks?" Cameron flinched from the verbal accusation. He couldn't help it. And to make it worse the Agent just continued, getting angrier by the second. "You don't want to take us to Atlantis to keep us safe. You just needed an excuse to have Charlie secluded enough to finish this damn equation!"

"This wasn't the original plan, I swear!" Cameron replied, trying to reason with the man, but wondering about it himself. Yet he knew the answer. And in part, Don was right, they _had_ taken the Daedalus to seclude Charlie. To purposely put them out of contact with Earth for a period of time, because if the Trust had any kind of foothold in the IOA, than just going to Atlantis wouldn't have been good enough. And if they'd been ordered back, Cameron had no doubt the situation would have gotten even more harried than before. But Cameron wanted to talk about _that_ even less than breeching the subject of 'were they in danger.'

As the agent glared him down, Cameron's brief hope of making friends with the man flickered and went out like a puff of smoke. "I'm sorry, okay? But this really was the best way to protect you both."

Don's jaw tightened and Cameron had to force himself not to tense up in anticipation of the punch even he felt he was due. Then Charlie came to the rescue, asking quietly, "How does the date burst work?"

Don turned away, pacing slightly in his agitation, but apparently not ready to physically strike out…yet. With a breath of relief, Cameron turned to the mathematical genius. "It's a lot like an email. Although we can record a video and send that, if you prefer."

They did.

x.x.x.x.x

Amita wondered if she was getting far too used to her situation. She was sitting on the couch in the Eppes house, her laptop on her legs and various papers and books scattered around her. Alan Eppes was in the large chair with a book of his own.

When she'd first started staying with him, mostly to keep him company while Charlie was gone, she'd been nervous about how to act, and probably over fed as Alan tried to over due the host thing. But then there were also two FBI agents around and they'd needed the comfort. It was just them now, with Larry over from time to time, and to her surprise Amita found she'd grown quite comfortable being here. She almost never saw her apartment anymore.

Her and Charlie had talked about moving in together, here, with or without Alan there as he'd been talking about moving out, but their plans had yet to leave the talking phase. At the time, the thought of living with his father intimidated her. She doubted she'd have that problem now.

A beep informed her something had arrived in her mailbox and taking a break from her current work, opened it up. There was nothing in the message, but the subject line read for Amita Ramanujan and Alan Eppes, and when she noticed it was a military email address her breath caught in her throat.

"What is it?" Alan asked in alarm, looking up from his book.

"I…" she click on the video attached to the email and Charlie's face appeared. "It's a letter from Charlie!"

Amita quickly moved over, making room on the couch so they could watch the video together. With another catch of her breath, Amita couldn't help but smile like a foolish school girl, but seeing even a video message of Charlie was a comfort.

He looked good, healthy, even happy. None of the tension from before was present, just the light of excitement and a show of passion was on his face. "Is it on?" He asked someone off screen, and then turning back to the camera smiled widely, "Hi guys! Amita, and dad, I hope you both get to see this. Um. We're doing okay. There's a lot here to keep me busy. I think Don's bored out of his mind."

Off screen they heard Don gripe, "Charlie, I can speak for myself, thank you."

Charlie just grinned, and ignoring him, continued on, "Anyway, I'm almost done with the problem. Amita, you would love it! Some of the concepts are just fundamentally amazing. I think Larry would die if he saw it. I think he'd die if he were here. There's a lot of new physics involved but I've found someone to help me with that. Actually, in a way he kind of reminds me of Larry, but without the constant analogies, or the hair.

"Make sure you tell Larry hi for me. I wish you were all here with us. I've been told we'll be able to send another message in nine days once we get to-" There was a sudden change of position, a small flicker of the screen that showed where the film had been cut. "-our destination." Then Charlie shrugged sheepishly, more evidence that he must have slipped something up in the original film.

"I just wanted to say how much I love you, Dad, Amita. We'll be home soon, so try not to worry. Oh, and Amita, I hope the board's not giving you too much problem. And Tony Gruber, in my Advance Applied Mathematics class probably needs to be pushed into taking a tutor. He's got a great brain, but I noticed he'd far to easily susceptible to peer evaluations. And if you need help with all the papers, try Karen Ross or Justin Jarvis." Charlie moved like he'd received a nudge on the shoulder.

"Okay, Don wants his turn. I love you. Miss you. We'll be home soon."

It wouldn't be soon enough, but Amita's smile grew bigger anyway as she silently whispered back. "I love you, too, Charlie."

Then Charlie stood up, disappearing out of the screen shot as Don appeared. "Hey dad. Look, I don't really have much to say, but I wanted to make sure you knew we were okay." He looked a lot more tired than Charlie, and certainly not as relaxed, but at least he had half a smile on his face.

"I'm assuming by now that Megan and the others have found Weaver, at least they better have. So I'm assuming you're safe and well. We're okay, too. In a couple weeks after Charlie's done his thing, we might even be able to come back ahead of schedule." He turned to shoot a glare off screen, obvious daring someone to contradict him. Somehow, Amita doubted it was aimed at Charlie.

Turning back, Don simply said, "Love ya, dad. We'll see you soon." Then he stood up and the video came to an end.

She was tempted to play it again, just to see Charlie, but refrained. She could do that in private, later. Beside her, Alan sighed. "Well, at least we know they're still safe."

"Better to have something rather than nothing," she agreed, and giving his hand a squeeze as if he were her own father, they exchanged comforting smiles.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie's final breakthrough came only twelve days into their voyage. When he finished, rewriting it to comprise only math language other scientists would understand, and a legend at the bottom when the sheer concept of the math was so foreign, so new, there was no known way to represent it, he stared at his finished product. It was long, the longest and more complex math problem he'd ever worked on before.

With a triumphant grin, he shook his brother awake. "Don! I'm done!"

"What?" Don asked, rubbing his face. For all that he spent a lot of his time dozing in the lab he never looked rested anymore.

"I'm done. It's solved."

Don perked up at that. "Really? Every bit of it is done?" Charlie just nodded, a silly grin threatening to crack his face in two. This was so much more thrilling than any other breakthrough he'd had. And already his mind wanted to do another. At home he was working on solving the cognitive emergence theory. Something that could take a decade of work to solve, but already, with everything he'd learned doing this, he had ideas he wanted to try. He just had to test it.

Already his hand itched to start. But no, he had to test and retest _this_ math first. Not for real of course, but Hermiod had shown him how to set up computer models. The very ship was a like a super _super_ computer, and, he'd been assured, Atlantis' was even better.

The very thought of trying it for real actually scared him half to death. If even one part of equation was wrong they could destroy the universe. Made him glad no one had tried it before.

"Charlie?" Don asked, sounding cautiously worried.

Smiling brightly again, Charlie exclaimed, "Let's go tell Cameron." Don looked ready to groan, but he still followed Charlie out of the lab. Charlie made it to the next hall intersection before he stopped short. He had no idea where to go to find Cameron.

Then Don stopped a passing crewmember, asking, "Do you know where we might find Colonel Mitchell?"

"You could try the gym, he spends a lot of time there."

"And where is that?"

They followed the directions to the letter and trying to look as calm and collective as Don, Charlie searched the rooms known as 'the gym.' Some had equipment, some just had mats. They found Cameron in one of the latter sparring with a crewman. The two stopped as the brothers walked in.

Cameron gave Don a hesitant look, and then questioned, "You want to spar Agent Eppes?"

"No, thanks," Don dryly answered. "Charlie wanted to come tell you he's finished."

Cameron's face instantly lit up and suddenly Charlie found he was grinning again. "Well, it still needs to be tested, but it's done."

Don frowned at him, objecting, "I thought you said every bit of it was done?"

"Every bit _is_ done. It's just not all tested." Charlie didn't understand why that upset Don so much. They still had six days to reach Atlantis.

"Well that's great, Charlie!" Cameron exclaimed, walking over and hitting his shoulder in a congratulatory way. "The galaxy's best scientists are at Atlantis. I'm sure they'll want to look over your work, but I have no doubts in your abilities."

Then Cameron's expression changed and Charlie turned to see Colonel Caldwell at the door. He didn't look pleased. "We just received a message from Atlantis. They've quarantined the city and warn against trying to make any kind of transmission."

"What does that mean?" Don demanded.

Looking grim but determined, Cameron stated, "It means we approach with caution."

Colonel Caldwell looked like he was half ready to object, but instead just turned and walked away. Suddenly, Charlie didn't feel so much like grinning anymore.

x.x.x.x.x

Rubbing at his tired eyes, Don forced himself to focus again on the screen. In just two day's time they'd reach Atlantis. No other messages had been sent. Nothing to indicate they weren't heading into a trap.

Initially, Don had been pissed that they were disregarding Atlantis' warning, but it didn't take much for him to realize that the only reason he was mad was because he was afraid for Charlie. He couldn't count how many times him and his team had purposely stepped into a trap. Just because they were told it would be dangerous didn't mean they didn't have a job to do. He just didn't like the idea of Charlie being caught in the middle of things.

So Don would do what he had promised he would do, keep Charlie safe. But this also meant he couldn't continue to remain in the dark about all this _alien_ stuff. Charlie was dealing with the news by focusing even harder on proving the ZPM Equation correct. He and the computer generated Hermiod had holed themselves up in Charlie's lad running simulation after simulation. Don had tried to start his research there, his desire to keep a constant eye on Charlie a major factor in his thinking, but all too soon Don had found the surprisingly chatty pair far too distracting.

He still checked in on Charlie, but Don had soon relocated to another, more quiet part of the ship. As usual, everyone seemed overly polite to him, and he was soon offered a station in the corner of a technician's lab alone with a pad and pencil from someone's personal stash.

That was three days ago, and Don now had most of the pad filled with short hand notes. It was just so much to take in, his brain kept insisting it was all impossible, but Don kept reading anyway.

Some of the files he opened he almost immediately closed again, the file filled to the brim with numbers, equations, and techno babble he didn't have a chance of understanding. The very first file he'd opened on the stargate had been like that, full of the physics of how it worked. Then, as he scrolled to the bottom, he'd found a link to another file aptly titled Stargate 101. This one had a much simpler explanation of the history, uses, and mechanics of the stargate. Don quickly found that someone had gone through most of the technologically compounded files and made 101 companion pieces.

Feeling like he finally had a grasp on things, he had delved into the various mission reports and history of the stargate program. Once again he felt his brain daring to explode from the onslaught of new and fantastical information, but treating it like he did when on a case, he sifted quickly through the information, jotting down the important parts and discarding most of the fine night details. If he allowed himself to really read these reports he'd need several weeks. He didn't have that kind of time.

Glancing at the clock he realized it was late. As late as things could be while on a ship in the middle of space. There was no night and day, but the ship was divided into two shifts and according to the computer readout, it was already three quarters of the way through the 'night shift.'

Suppressing a yawn, Don was tempted to shut the terminal down and get a couple hours rest. The room he was in was already empty as the technicians who worked here had themselves gone to bed a few hours ago.

Movement in the corner of his eyes turned him towards the door in time to see Colonel Mitchell walk by. "Hey! Mitchell!" Don called out and the Colonel slowly backtracked into view.

"What can I do for you, Agent Eppes?" Mitchell asked courteously.

Don chewed his lip for a second. Why _had_ he called Mitchell back? He really didn't like the man, more so because he'd pulled Charlie into a dangerous situation, but he knew the Colonel had a job to do, just like Don did. Things had changed. "Answer a question for me."

The Colonel slowly walked into the room, his hands seeking his pockets but Don knew the Colonel was still on guard. He almost laughed at the thought, and then asked the question that was on the top of his quickly growing list. "These Wraith. What exactly do they look like? I couldn't find any pictures, but the file says they're an evolutional hybrid of humans and some sort of bug. Do they look like bugs?"

The Colonel snorted, but quickly schooled his features back to normal as Don just waited for an answer. "Ah, no. Honestly, they look a lot more like white haired vampires, although I've been told Michael, one of the Wraith, had been growing an army of super bug men who _do_ look like bugs. I'm really hoping that's not what we find there."

Don nodded, his mind whirling with thoughts as he filed that information away. The Colonel gave him a strange look, and then politely inquired, "Do you have any other questions, Agent Eppes?"

He did, and flipping to his list he asked them, one by one. The Colonel readily answered each and every one. Thankfully, the Colonel wasn't much of a scientist which made his explanations fundamentally simple, and far more along the lines Don liked, with a focus on something's use, rather than how it functioned.

A couple hours must have passed, but the Colonel made no move to leave, having taken a seat at the terminal next to Don as they talked. Don just kept asking questions, and writing more notes where it was needed.

Then, while Don was making a notation on the noticeably reoccurring pattern of crystalline entities, the Colonel suddenly said, sounding somewhat cautious as he spoke, "You know. For all the bad guy we know about, there's a hundred more we don't."

But Don wasn't disturbed by that thought, replying, "It's not really so different with the cases I work on…back home. We always start with a crime, and then follow the evidence to the perpetrator, but while a lot of them may seem alike…a thief's a thief…most have their own unique agenda."

The Colonel looked at him in surprise, but Don just ignored it and asked the next question. If Don took the time to think about things, he'd have found that thinking of all this alien stuff wasn't so hard anymore, but he really didn't have that kind of time.


	3. Chapter 3

In six hours they would reach Atlantis. Cameron stood at the back of the bridge waiting. He knew they were close enough now to use the long-range scanners. They were just waiting for Caldwell's decision to do it.

He reflected on the changes that had happened over the last few days. He'd completely expected Don Eppes to finally throw that punch once he'd learned they were still heading full long into what was mostly likely a trap, but the Agent had surprised Cameron. Instead of anger, the man had become easier to be around.

It had only taken that one night of Q & A for Cameron to realize why. The agent was a professional, through and through, and this was no longer just a 'trip' to him. He also had shown a lot more insight into events than Cameron had strung together, for all his experience off world. Like how none of the other societies they came across seemed to really understand the concepts of gorilla warfare. Cameron just figured it was due to their arrogant tendencies, but Eppes had remarked that it was more likely to a lack of civil war in their histories. Less democracy and far more imperialism.

Cameron knew Charlie was the genius in the Eppes family, but he knew better than to underestimate either of them.

"Major, see what you can find on the long-range scanners," Colonel Caldwell ordered one of his helmsmen.

Snapping his attention back, Cameron waited with everyone else for the reply.

"I'm not getting anything, sir. They could be cloaked."

"All right. Keep trying every thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Then something very strange happened. The lights flickered. An event of small consequence, but in a ship in peak form, it could only mean one thing. The words were out of Cameron's mouth before he knew it. "Ah, crap!"

x.x.x.x.x

"Hermiod, lets try reversing the factors. I want to see what would happen if a sun were in the vicinity of the dimensional tap." Charlie suggested. They'd been over the equation again and again, and found it to work flawlessly, but Charlie knew he had to keep his mind busy to keep from worrying, so now they were just having 'fun' with it. Testing out worst-case scenarios. In the computer simulations Charlie had already destroyed twelve planets, three complete solar systems, created five massive black holes, and inversed numerous realities. He had yet to actually cause the universe to implode.

If Larry knew what he was doing to pass his time, Charlie was sure his best friend would disown him.

"As you wish," Hermiod said, letting out a long drawn out sigh. Apparently the little alien didn't agree with Charlie's new hobby, either. But then a moment later the computer generated alien disappeared.

Sitting up, Charlie tried reactivating the program with no success. Confused, he watch as several lines of code slipped across the screen. He tried again, noticing once more the same pattern of numbers with one variance at the end. He tried opening other programs, seeing the same interrupting code come through, each long string of line with it's own variance. The coded line filled the entire screen, and only remained up for a couple seconds, but his mind had no problem picking out the unique singularities.

He was so distracted by the new phenomenon that he didn't hear Don calling him until his brother grabbed his shoulder. Charlie jerked in surprise, openly complaining, "Don!"

"Charlie, come on," Don said, half walking back out of the room before he realized Charlie wasn't following him. "Forget about the Equation, Charlie, right now we need to go."

But Charlie just blinked at him in confusion, unable to understand why Don was suddenly in a rush. "Don, what's going on?"

His brother turned completely around to face him, lips thin as he demanded with exasperation, "Charlie, are you serious? You haven't noticed? The flickering lights? The crazy doors? The announcement to get to battle stations? The _emergency light?"_ And he motioned to the where there really was a red light flashing in the corner.

Charlie blinked. No, he really hadn't noticed any of that. And then Cameron came skidding into the room. "Come on, we got to go!"

But even as Don all but dragged Charlie out of the room, Charlie once again asked, "What's going on?"

"There's a virus in the system. We're going to shut everything down and wipe the system but I'm putting you both into a 302 just in case."

Charlie pulled free of Don's gripped, forcing them to a halt. "The ZPM Equation!" he exclaimed, horrified at the mere thought of loosing all that work.

But Cameron just tapped his pocket, pointedly stating, "Is on a back up drive. It's perfectly safe. Now come on!"

Charlie had no idea what a 302 was, but all too soon discovered it was some kind of plane. As Cameron all but pushed them into the two seats, he showed Don what buttons to press. "Okay, this is a separate system, but we don't want to do a full boot up or it'll connect to the ship and defeat the whole purpose of putting you guys in here. What ever you do, don't touch anything!"

"Yeah, I read the file," Don stated, sounding far calmer than Charlie currently felt.

"Right. Okay, this will bring up life support. Do it once I close the cockpit. You got several hours of air, so just be patient. Without radios you'll have to wait for me to knock on the glass, got it?"

With the seat in the way, Charlie couldn't see his brother, but a moment later Cameron was pulling the cockpit down, closing it manually while Charlie assumed his brother was following the Colonel's directions.

Suddenly Charlie felt extremely claustrophobic. He wondered if he should put his seat straps on, but Cameron's warning about not touching anything rang sharply in his mind. He took a small breath, surprised to find he was shaking.

"Charlie? You okay, Buddy?" Don called back to him.

"I don't know. Are we?"

But his brother sounded confident in his reply. "Yeah. We'll be fine. They've already been through this one before."

Charlie was shocked. Shocked because he knew Don had been having a hard time with being in space, and now…well now suddenly he wasn't. He knew his brother hadn't been hanging around the lab anymore, but as he sat there, he realized he also hadn't known just what it was his brother _had_ been doing.

"Seriously Charlie. We're going to be fine."

It was hard not to believe his brother. Charlie trusted Don with his life. And Don was his big brother. Big brothers were supposed to know things like if it was safe or not. "Okay." He sunk back into his seat, once again trying to pretend he wasn't trapped in a plane on a space ship not even in a galaxy but the middle of nowhere. Perhaps by now they were close enough to the Pegasus Galaxy they could find a different planet to land on.

Then the lights went out, plunging them into perfect darkness. "Donnie?"

"It's okay, Charlie. I promise you're going to be okay," he brother told him with passionate determination. Charlie clung to the confident reassurance, and then he started to do the only thing that truly calmed him down. He thought of numbers.

Initially, his mind thought of the ZPM Equation, and then of the Cognitive Emergence Theory, but it kept going back to the string of numbers he'd seen when this trouble began. He supposed it was the virus, and in all honestly, Amita knew far more about computers and viruses than Charlie did. Yet the string of numbers hadn't seemed like a virus to Charlie, and the more he thought about it, the more connections he drew to various patterns he'd noticed.

The lights had come on again, but they went out almost immediately after. It was another ten minutes at least before they came back on a second time, and another five before Cameron appeared, knocking on the cockpit. But he didn't look relieved.

As soon as Don had the hatch open Cameron half leaned in, looking at the black and silent monitors. "It's not us," Don stated.

"I didn't think it was," Cameron replied, but the unspoken 'I had to check anyway' was clear in the air. Obviously they hadn't managed to eradicate the virus.

"I've been thinking," Charlie said before Cameron could leave again. "A lot of the sequences in the virus are random, reacting to the changes on a level of intelligence that far exceeds that of a computer program."

"Charlie, we've come across some truly intelligent programs before."

"Yes, but even the greatest Artificial Intelligence still has to make its decisions based upon a logic chart. Even Hermiod with his personality factored in, still works off a decision tree, it's just there are so many factors involved it's easy to confuse part of its decision making process as a unique outcome. This virus isn't like that. I noticed several variations in its pattern that just don't make sense. Not because they're not reacting to the programs it was encountering but because its decision were truly random."

Cameron's face turned pained and Charlie wondered how else he could explain his theory, but before he even had a chance Don asked bluntly, "Charlie. You saying this thing's alive?"

Was he? "Yes."

Then Cameron shook his head, negating the idea. "Even if it was some kind of energy entity, there's no place for it to go."

Then Don said something that seemed rather naive, and yet ingenious. "What about that whole matter to energy thing?"

"The amount of energy required to theoretically make even one spec of matter would be at least ten times what this ship's computer could contain. If it had that much energy we'd be fried like an egg right now." But it got Charlie to thinking, because wasn't that part of the ZPM Equation?

And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced this virus really was alive, however it was surviving their attempts to purge it. "We have to talk to it."

Charlie pushed himself out of the seat, against many protests by both Cameron and Don, but Charlie already had an idea of what he needed to do. The patterns in the code, it was more than just numbers, it was a kind of speech.

x.x.x.x.x

Don watched his brother work with crossed arms. He didn't like it. He didn't like a lot of things, but he'd learned the hard way there were some things out of his control, even when it came to protecting Charlie.

Mitchell had told Colonel Caldwell what Charlie was trying to do, but everyone in the room could only watch…and wait. Especially since they'd lost the hyper drive system only minutes before. Charlie's fingers were typing furiously, his eyes glued to the constantly flickering screen in rapt attention.

Beside him, Mitchell leaned over, whispering so as not to disrupt Charlie, "What's he doing?"

As if Don had any better understand that he did. "What he does best. Talk in numbers."

Mitchell nodded as if he understood, but then asked again, "But what is he doing?"

"Asking it to surrender? Your guess is as good as mine," Don dryly remarked.

"I'm using the variables in its pattern to determine its next course of action, then reciprocation the pattern to see if I can effect the outcome," Charlie responded, never once taking his eyes of the screen.

"Oh," Mitchell said and Don snorted, knowing full well that Charlie's explanation didn't make a damn bit of sense to the Colonel either.

Don knew something had change even before Charlie said anything. "I think I'm getting through to it. It's starting to answer some of my questions."

"Questions?" Mitchell automatically echoed.

"Yes. I noticed some of the patterns were representations of certain universal truths, like Pi or the Golden Ratio, so I'm using them to help translate other mathematical expressions."

Mitchell's face scrunched up in confusion once again, and making a wry face, finally guessed, "So, basically, you're flirting with it?"

Charlie made a face like the one he often made at Don when he simplified something far below what it really was. "No. I'm _talking_ to it."

"Oh." But Mitchell looked vary much like he felt it was the same thing.

Internally, Don smiled, glad to know he wasn't the only one who had to be confused by Charlie's brain. Outwardly, he got more impatient the longer it took. At least they hadn't lost life support, but what if they did? Charlie couldn't do his thing in that fighter plane, but Don also couldn't do a thing to protect him out here.

Don wasn't the only one getting impatient. "Colonel Mitchell," Caldwell's voice asked, coming over the little mic Don was now wearing in one ear. It was far more comfortable that the white ones he and his team used. "What's the status?"

"They've started courting, sir," Mitchell replied completely seriously.

There was a pause and then a not so amused voice responded, "Estimated time?"

"Charlie?" Mitchell inquired.

"Um," Charlie replied, distracted. "Not too much longer."

Don knew that answer had no real value, not when Charlie was absorbed it didn't. But he didn't bother to correct the Colonel as Mitchell replied into the mic, "Should be soon, sir."

Caldwell didn't bother to reply, and once again they were left waiting.

For once, Charlie hadn't been too far off. A great grin spread across his face, and half turning in his seat he told them, "You can start the system up again, he's agreed not to take anything off line again."

"He?" Don inquired, but Mitchell was already on the line with Caldwell and a moment later Don felt the slight jerk of the ship once again entering hyperspace.

"It's really amazing how fast he's adapting. I think I even have an idea of how to explain the verbal language to him," Charlie stated, his face lighting up so bright it might start glowing.

Don would even be fine with that if it meant the danger was over, but as much as Charlie was reassuring him, Don wasn't ready to completely trust some strange alien energy entity. Then, suddenly, there was a glow, and Hermiod appeared again, only it wasn't Hermiod. This image was acting much different than the one of the Asgard. This was the entity, communicating in a new way.

Charlie didn't seem surprised by the sudden apparition, and in fact started talking even as he was typing. And just like that, Don knew Charlie was trying to do exactly what he had said he would do, he was teaching it how to talk.

Don's head began to hurt, badly. He remembered now why he had avoided learning all this stuff about aliens and such. It could be overwhelmingly mind-boggling.

Beside him, Mitchell blurted out exactly the same thing on Don's mind. "Whoa! That's just creepy!"

x.x.x.x.x

John Sheppard roamed the near empty halls of Atlantis with Ronon at his side. With the city shut down, half the people had temporarily moved to the mainland with the other half were still trying to figure out just what the hell happened.

Rodney insisted it was related to his team's recent…naps. That the reason they couldn't just purge these pesky beings out of Atlantis' systems was because they partially existed in an alternate dimension. Rodney had said a lot more than just that, but for Sheppard that was the just of it.

What he didn't like was knowing his team's sudden trip to the twilight zone had lead to Atlantis not having even a drop of power. They had turned things on again in limited areas, only after making sure it was completely disconnected from the rest of the city, to discover the same thing over and over again. These alternate dimensional beings had complete control over every one of their systems. In the end they'd had to disconnect all the generators and the ZPM just to ensure their safety.

That was almost a week ago, and still Rodney had yet to find a way of getting rid of the things. Sheppard had no doubt in his mind Rodney would eventually figure it out, especially since Carter and Zelenka were helping him out, but he hated waiting. He also hated feeling useless and so had taken up the duty of assigning teams to constantly patrol the city while they were such sitting ducks.

Checking his watch, he flicked on his radio and waiting for the check in. They didn't have a way of recharging the batteries so had established times for meeting up. Lorne's team was the first to report, nothing yet. The rest said much the same thing and Sheppard desperately hoped it continued to stay that way.

In a way it was a good thing they had a new address. Meant fewer people knew where to come calling. As an added measure, they'd blocked up the gate to prevent incoming calls as well as outgoing ones, just in case the entities could travel against the grain on an incoming wormhole. The only thing they had done, was chance a message out to the Daedalus in the hopes of keeping them out of the same predicament they were in.

"This is boring," Ronon complained, twirling his energy pistol as they walked the blackened halls. There was just enough light here that Sheppard had the flashlight off.

"I prefer it that way," Sheppard told him, although secretly, he didn't.

The light got stronger as they neared the control rooms. It was one of the areas of the city with the most natural light and so Carter, Rodney and Zelenka had set up lab there. Not to mention it was in sight of the stargate…just in case.

The three scientists were busy discussing some sort of theory, Sheppard didn't know what, just listening to them made his head hurt, but as Colonel Carter spotted them, they stopped. "Everything's clear, Ma'am," Sheppard reported to his boss.

"Thank you," she replied, and stepped away from the other two scientists. "I think we're getting somewhere with these energy beings, but it'll probably still take a bit of time."

"Then you've started communicating with them?" Sheppard guessed, taking that as good news.

"Yes. Though it's only on a rudimentary level and I'll still feel much better if we can figure out a way of blocking their connection to this dimension altogether," she told him, looking a little worn around the edges.

"We could always go back to sleeping beauty's place," he suggested, using the nickname that had circulated for the planet his team had so disastrously explored.

"Not yet we can't."

And that was the truth of the matter. Until they got a handle on things here, they couldn't risk opening the stargate. But he was _really_ bored, and ready to argue his way into getting her to let him go, he was taken completely off guard by the sudden flash of white light.

He recognized it instantly as Asgard beaming technology, but regardless, both he and Ronon had their guns up and point down into the gate room. There, in the center of the floor appeared Colonel Mitchell, a team of marines…and a cop?

He stood with the rest, dressed in black BDUs and carrying a MP5, but the badge on his belt glinted off the sunlight streaming through the window. As their small group descended the stairs to meet the new arrivals, Sheppard got a closer look at the badge and realized the guy wasn't just a cop, but a Fed. Out here in the Pegasus Galaxy? He wondered if Earth had suddenly become desperate for recruits.

"Oh great!" Rodney loudly complained, joining them. "Let me guess. You ignored our warning and came anyway, and now you're experiencing technical difficulties. Not only do I have to save us, but now I've got to save you, too!"

Rodney wasn't the only one visibly upset. "We sent that message for very good reasons, Cameron," Carter stated with firm disapproval.

"I know Sam, I'm sorry," Mitchell immediately apologized. She was a rank higher, but she used to be on his team. Before her big promotion. Still, he defended his reaction, saying adamantly, "But it wouldn't have stopped you, either. Beside, we don't have any technical problems. Not anymore." And he grinned, looking far too smug.

Sheppard completely expected Rodney to explode on them. Their leading scientist had several issues with an almost justifiable ego, and over the last few weeks, first with their team coming out of pseudo comas, and then with this, his already intolerable mood had only gotten worse.

But Rodney didn't explode. Instead, his eyes lit up with so much excitement Sheppard almost fainted in shock. "Charlie's on the Daedalus!"

"Who?" Sheppard asked, but suddenly saw the Fed shift his feet, pulling at Sheppard's curiosity once again.

The Fed's eyes were scanning the room, the people, taking it all in at a glance before he asked McKay, "You know my brother?"

"Yes, yes. We went to Math Camp together," Rodney impatiently replied, his face once again lighting up with excitement. "Well, where is he? You can send him down, it's perfectly safe."

Sheppard confirmed this for the group, saying, "The City's fine. We're just having a bit of a power outage."

Oddly, Mitchell looked at the Fed for permission, receiving it in the form of a nod before he radioed up to the Daedalus. When the new Asgard beam vanished, Sheppard looked at this 'Charlie' Rodney knew from 'Math Camp,' finding someone that both fit and didn't fit his expectations.

Charlie was very unlike his brother in that he was the typical toothpick most geeks tended to be, but he still managed to maintain his good looks, knocking the whole 'nerdy' image out the door.

The man's eyes blinked as he readjusted to the light and new surroundings, but they lit up in imitation of Rodney's the moment he spotted McKay. "Meredith!" Charlie exclaimed with keen pleasure. "No one told me you were here! No wonder I haven't seen any papers from you."

Sheppard fully expected Rodney to berate this man for using his real first name that practically no one knew, but flooring his team leader once again, Rodney didn't even seem to notice.

"Well, you know how it is. Secret work and all that. By the way I loved the Eppes Convergence, truly ingenious, although I noticed a problem in-"

"With the infinite factor, I know, I've already fixed it. It was my first paper," Charlie replied defensively, although he was grinning like an idiot.

"Too true," Rodney beamed. "Now that you're here I'll have to show you some of the things _I've_ done."

Before the two could end up absorbed in their geeky reminiscing, Sheppard bluntly asked, "Not to be a party crasher, but first, can we fix our current problem?"

"Of course, of course," Rodney all but shrugged him off.

Then Mitchell introduced, "Sam, Sheppard, this is Professor Charlie Eppes, and his brother, Special Agent Don Eppes. Guys, I give you the beautiful Colonel Samantha Carter, Colonel John Sheppard, and Ronon Dex." Just like the marines in the group, Zelenka and the rest were left out. There'd be time enough for full name exchanging later.

"Ma'am," Don Eppes replied, nodding to Carter. "I hope we're not too much of an inconvenience."

But before she could answer McKay cut in with a wave of his hand. "Of course not! Charlie, did you figure out the ZPM Equation I wrote?"

Charlie looked at him in shock. "You _wrote_ that? Then why did you need it translated?"

"It a long story," but already Rodney was telling him and the two scientists naturally started to walk off, already consumed in their conversation. Agent Eppes took a half step after them, but held himself back.

"He'll be fine," Sheppard reassured the Fed, realizing for the first time why the man was really there. It was an overprotective brother kind of deal.

Eppes nodded his head, but he didn't relax, and his eyes never left his brother's back.

Then Carter pointedly asked Mitchell, "You mentioned you found a way to fix the technical problems?"

"Ah…we better get the professor to explain it."

They did, but the most Sheppard was able to grasp was that this Charlie had taught one of the entities to communicate using math. It spoke full English now, in the form of an Asgard projection, but when Charlie found out Atlantis was plagued with hundred of the beings, things suddenly came to a head.

Charlie's new friend could mediate for them with the rest, but only if they turned on practically every single system in the city, which was a huge risk, not to mention, they still needed a way to get the entities completely out of their dimension altogether.

But did they really have much choice? It was either take the risk or do nothing, so they took the risk, letting Charlie's alien buddy communicate for them. It was a tense several hours of negotiations, but finally the other entities agreed not to 'destroy' anything.

Now, with lights back on, and the majority of the doors working, a group of them were discussing the situation in the conference room. They still needed to go back to the planet to find the device that could reverse things.

"I don't like sending your team back there," Carter stated, voicing her opinion outright. That was one of things Sheppard like about his new boss, she was upfront.

"My team has the advantage. We already know the layout," he told her. Plus, he was more than willing to chance another week in the medical wing if it meant _doing_ something.

Rodney added, much as Sheppard expected him to, "Plus, you'll need me to identify the right device. There were a hundred different items in that abandoned lab."

She pursed her lips, but acquitted, "All right. Sheppard, your team leaves in 30 minutes. Dr. Zelenka, get the stargate up and running again."

They were about to split off into their own directions, but before they could, John thought he'd extend an invitation out to Mitchell. "Wanna come?"

As he figured, the Colonel eyes lit up in a yes, but to his surprise he glance at the Fed quietly watching their proceeding with a calm gaze while his mathematician brother seemed to be scratching furiously on a pad of paper next to him. Mitchell made a motion of his head, not needing to speak the request out loud but saying it, none the less.

John hesitated. Mitchell was one thing, he had at least met the Colonel before, but the Fed was a completely different matter. He wasn't even sure how Fed's operated in combat situations. But Mitchell tilted his head again, more insistently, and John inwardly sighed. Turning to look at Carter he raised an eyebrow in question. She had the same troubled look John felt, but then she nodded, and turning to look down the table, John lightly asked, "Agent Eppes, wanna come?"

The man raised both his eyebrows in surprise, and before he could really reply, McKay excitedly exclaimed, "Then Charlie could come, too!"

Four very strong and adamant voices gave him a resounding, "No!"

For his part, Charlie just looked up and smiling, told Rodney, "It's okay, Mere. I've already well exceeded my excitement quota for the week."

Rodney looked ready to protest so Sheppard said again, "No, McKay." Then he turned back to the Fed, still awaiting the answer. "Eppes?"

The elder Eppes brother thought about it hard for a few seconds, but with a soft sigh finally said, "Sure."

Sheppard wasn't so sure if he'd been hoping for a yes or a no, but he put it out of his mind to turn to business. If Mitchell wanted the Fed there, then he could look after him, and looking pointedly at the Colonel, he glance told Mitchell exactly that.

As his team was rising, Professor Eppes rose, handing his notebook to Rodney, saying, "I've pulled together the data we have so far on the dimensional beings. Calculating the energy output we're getting from them, you'll be looking for some kind of matter converter that can handle at least this much energy."

Rodney looked at it, and 'uhmed' in the way he did to say he agreed with the figures. Then remarked, "This looks a lot like part of the ZPM Equation."

"It is, with a few alterations. Your equation is actually what gave me the idea."

Sheppard didn't know if the professor was aware of the phrasing of his words, or how they stroked Rodney's ego by referring to the ZPM Equation as Rodney's, but it made his scientist beam with pleasure.

"I'm glad I could help," Rodney stated, and the two walked out praising each other's works.

Sheppard shook his head, mystified. Rodney didn't praise anyone without being coerced into it. As Agent Eppes slowly approached, Sheppard gave him a look and asked, "You brother doesn't drink any strange potions does he? Made from a unknown weed perhaps?"

"Not that I'm aware of," the Fed replied, but even he seemed perturbed by the two scientist's instant bond.

x.x.x.x.x

Don took a big breath, continuing his forward momentum as he walked through the gate. As he did when firing a rifle, he had forced his breathing to stay calm, and breathing out, stepped through the shimmering pool of the stargate in anticipation. Keeping the adrenalin down hadn't been easy, but Don was an experienced risk taker, and was more than a little pleased to find he hadn't stumbled when he emerged on the other side.

Mitchell, a long with Shepard's team, which surprisingly included the scientist, McKay, and two locals of the Pegasus Galaxy, though completely human, Ronon Dex and Teyla Emmagan. She was the first to actually ask him about the badge, not knowing a thing about it, but picking up that it set him apart.

He'd tried to keep it simple, telling her he was normally a domestic peace officer on Earth. She said 'ah' and nodded like she understood, but Ronon held nothing back, saying bluntly that the military was the military. So Don had settled on a new tactic, keeping his explanation to 'I'm usually more localized.'

In the end it didn't really seem to make a difference to them, and as soon as he'd donned the flack jacket like the rest of them, well, except Ronon who apparently didn't need one, to them, Don was just one of the team.

He watched them as they moved through the forest toward the abandoned lab. The moved like a well oiled machine, with completely trust. It was crazy. Him _being_ here was crazy. Not for the first time, Don asked himself why he'd said yes. Perhaps it was because he was finally getting used to all this alien 'stuff,' or out of curiosity to see all the things he'd spent the last several days reading about. In the end, he decided it was because he was tired of sitting around and wanted to really _do_ something.

Charlie was safe in Atlantis. He knew that now, and if he had to stay and listen to the babble of scientists that Charlie was submersed in, Don figured he'd grow crazy. It was like when Charlie and Larry talked, quadrupled.

And if Meredith…Rodney McKay, hadn't been with them now, Don figured it'd be even worse. What was it about those two? They obviously hadn't seen each other in years, but they acted like it was yesterday. Don wracked his memory trying to remember when Charlie might have gone to 'Math Camp' but all he kept coming up with was a two week summer program that Charlie had gone to when he was nine.

Was that really where the two geniuses had first met? But like many things in Charlie's life, Don hadn't been close enough to his brother to really know much about them.

"Hey, you doing okay?" Mitchell asked, walking at his side.

"Oh yeah. Do most planets look a lot like this?" He asked, motioning to the rather common looking trees with his free hand.

"You mean like Earth?" Mitchell chuckled. "Actually, yeah. Although they don't seem to be nearly as big as our fair green and blue world."

Don nodded, thinking that made sense. Well, assuming that it did because most of the cultures he'd read about were really very small in comparison. Almost none of the other planets had more than one country, _maybe_ two.

The path seemed to be thinning, and soon they emerged in front of the broken down building. Much of the entrance had long since caved in, and Don noticed the old blast marks still visible where the foliage had protected the stone and metal from the elements. Sheppard lead his team inside, Don and Mitchell following.

It was automatic for Don to treat this like an operation, reading the hand motions Sheppard made with ease. Most were the same as the ones he knew and used with his own team. As part of the rear he walked half turned, to prevent anyone from sneaking up from behind, and noticed Mitchell automatically doing the same thing.

Sheppard had already told them he didn't expect to find anyone here, they hadn't the first time, but everyone took precautions, staying completely on guard until they were in the building.

It was much the way Don imaged an abandoned alien lab…just like any other kind of abandoned lab. He'd been to enough crime scenes that his eyes automatically picked out the scorch marks, most of which were consistent with the ones outside. Yet from the pattern of the marks, he guessed they were made from some kind of projectile energy weapon rather than any kind of bomb.

"Be careful not to touch anything," McKay cautioned, but it wasn't necessary. Sheppard's team was obviously used to maneuvering around sensitive materials, and Don just thought of the place like a crime scene, following footprints, and keeping his hands to himself.

And just like in a crime scene, he looked around, trying to find the items 'out of place.' It was a little harder than sorting out a murder scene, but Don soon found the evidence he was looking for. "Over here. This is your matter converter."

"Oh right, because you would know what one looks like," McKay criticized in a scalding voice.

Don shrugged. Off all the items in the room, the device was one of the few that was both mostly intact and had been displaced sometime after the initial destruction of the lab. A layer of dust showed where it had been, and where it was now, and if they actually had a forensics team, Don was sure they'd find scuffmarks on the device where it had likely been kicked. But he didn't want to explain all this, so he shrugged, and simply stated, "It's got a blue crystal in it."

"What does that have to do with anything?!" But as McKay bent down to examine the device his attitude changed and he made the 'uhm' noise.

"What?" Sheppard asked, "Is he right? Is that it?"

"It was a lucky guess!" McKay gripped, but that was as good as a yes.

"Nice!" Sheppard grinned at Don and Don oddly, found himself smiling back.

The walk back was somewhat more interesting for Don, than the walk in. The team had packed up the device, Sheppard promising McKay they could come back to snoop around more later, and headed back for the stargate.

This time there wasn't the tension, the anticipation of not knowing what he would find. Don doubted most off world missions went so smoothly, and in fact, he _knew_ they didn't, but for his first time to an alien world through a wormhole, Don was really quite satisfied. And he'd been useful.

Mitchell smiled a lopsided smile, and with sidelong look, he asked, "How did you know. Really?"

"Like I said, it had a blue crystal in it," Don stated completely seriously. He still hadn't forgiven the Colonel for dragging him here, but Don had grown a grudging respect for the man.

"Okay, serious. How did you know?"

He considered dragging it out, but finally just shook his head, saying, "It was just a crime scene, like any other."

A step ahead of him, Sheppard snorted. He'd dropped back a step leaving Teyla and Ronon in the lead with the box, and McKay in the middle. The scientist had his head down and was looking at the ground almost as if he expected to trip. Either that or he was working on something in his head. Don knew his brother had that tendency sometimes. Again Don found himself smiling.

"Hey," Sheppard asked with mild curiosity, "Has your brother ever mentioned McKay before?"

Don shook his head, then openly told the Colonel, "My brother and I didn't used to be that close."

Sheppard took that into consideration, but then asked, "And does your brother have a lot of impossible friends?"

"Well, since we started this trip, he's made friends with a computer simulated alien, an entity from another dimension, and your friend there," Don replied, finding that saying it out loud made it seem that much more surreal.

Mitchell argued, "I don't think Rodney counts, they already knew each other. Although I don't get why Charlie calls him Meredith."

Sheppard's grin was fit to crack his face. "It's Rodney's first name."

"For real?"

At that, McKay seemed to come out of his walking coma and giving them a scalding glare exclaimed, "I can hear you, you know! I'm right here!"

Now all three men were smiling.

Yes, this hadn't been a bad first time, Don decided with satisfaction.

x.x.x.x.x

Alan had taken up pacing the floor. It had been nine days from that last message. In fact, it had been ten, and still there was no new message. Amita had her laptop open on the table, with the volume turned up so they could hear the beep. And it had beeped many times that day _and_ the day previous when another message had been promised, but so far none of the beeps had been his boys.

"Alan, why don't you sit down?" Amita encouraged from her position on the couch. She had skipped classes that day, just like he had, and the two of them had tried everything to keep themselves occupied, but the stress was only getting worse the longer they were forced to wait.

"No," he told her. "I couldn't."

She didn't bother to push him on the matter but folded her arm and rested her head on the back of the couch.

The computer beeped.

Alan knew by now what to look for, scanning the newest email subject line with his old eyes. He really needed glasses to read, but with a joyful start he recognized his name listed next to Amita's just like in had been in the first message.

He hadn't needed to say anything. Amita was up off the couch in an instant. Alan pulled out his glasses from his pocket and sat down at the table next to her. Just like before, it was a video message, and with a simple double click, the image of his youngest appeared on the screen.

"Hi dad! Sorry this took so long, we had a few technical difficulties, but it's nothing to worry about, we're doing just find. We're here actually, and if everything goes well the return trip will be much faster. I finished the problem, but we're still testing, and I don't know how long that will take." The excitement on Charlie's face was catching, and Alan found himself grinning at the screen.

"I'm learning a lot of new things, and making a bunch of new friends," Charlie continued on, "I wish you guys were here to share it with me, or that I could tell you any of the details. I know time is moving fast for me, so we should be home soon. We'll send another message before he have to leave."

A voice off screen good-naturedly complained, "Charlie, hurry up! I haven't even shown you my lab yet!"

Charlie's eyes lit up with excitement and he grinned off screen. "I'll be done in a second." He turned back to the camera. "Okay, I've got to go. I love you, dad, Amita. I'll see you soon."

And then he was gone. There was a momentary pause and then they could hear Don's voice complain, "Where did Charlie go? I just walked away for a second!"

They heard Mitchell's voice reply, "You know Charlie."

"Yeah, I do. That's the problem!"

But then Don sat down in front of the camera, and making a face, said, "Hey dad. Charlie's fine. We're both fine."

Alan looked closely at his eldest son's face, and determined for himself that it was true. Don looked better than in the last video. More relaxed, although perhaps not as rested.

"Anyway," Don said, slouching back in the chair, "I don't know when we'll be done here, might be a few days, but if everything works right, and it being Charlie's math, I'm sure it will, we'll be home shortly after that. Say hi to the team for me. And take care of yourself. Don't go fretting about us. Amita, if you're there, make sure you look after Alan and don't let him get obsessed over this."

Alan snorted with disagreement, but how was he supposed to argue his point with a video? Amita just grinned at him.

"Dad," Don said, sounding suddenly serious again as he leaned forward. "We're okay. It's a good group here. We'll talk to you again, soon."

He stood up, but with a motion from someone off screen sat down again, saying, "Mitchell says if you want to send a reply email it'll get to us in a day or so. All right, I guess that's it. I need to go make sure Charlie doesn't get himself lost in his excitement. See ya, dad."

And then the video ended.

Alan leaned back with relief. At last he felt sure that his sons were really okay. He'd still feel better when they actually got home and he could smother then to death with his love, but for now, this would suffice.

"Charlie looks so young," Amita remarked, the smile on her face reaching her eyes.

"He _is_ young!" Alan stated, but then grinned. "How about some tea?"

"I would love that."

They didn't need to talk about it, they were both relieved and that was enough.

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie felt like he was on an adrenalin kick. There was a ninety-eight percent chance he really was. He just couldn't believe everything that had happened in the last two days.

Atlantis was just a living wonder for Charlie. More because of the people living here than the technology it contained, but that helped to fuel his excitement, too. It was just so different, no new, and so full of people he didn't have to explain things too. Especially Meredith. But it was like that back when they were kids, too.

Meredith had been the first person Charlie had met with the same intellectual capacity as himself. It didn't take much for them to become quick friends. After so many years of hearing nothing, Charlie had assumed he would never see Meredith again, but here he was. Not only that, he was surrounded by people just like them. Even Samantha Carter, the person in charge of the entire city, was an extremely intelligent scientist.

Mere had confided in Charlie his early fantasies with Samantha, but was then quick to introduce Charlie to his girlfriend, Katie, a botanist.

Charlie just laughed, and then told him all about Amita. That was the only hard part about being here. He missed her. He missed dad, too. But with so much to see, and so many people to talk to, Charlie was surprised to find himself so comfortable here in Atlantis. An entire galaxy away, and he didn't want to go home.

"Charlie, check this out," Mere said, sliding into the seat next to them. They were in the mess hall eating lunch while they waited for the proper approvals to do the final test. Apparently the last two times they had messed with multidimensional physics, Mere had blown up half a solar system, and his sister had practically collapsed an alternate universe. And none of it had been by simulation. It was staggering to think his math might be just as devastating, but Mere had been quick to tell him it wasn't likely.

The biggest problem they had discovered was that the matter side of the equation took more than just any crystal. So while they wouldn't be able to create brand new ZPMs, if everything worked right, they'd at least be able to recharge current ones. And they already had a couple 'empties' to experiment with.

But it was still a huge decision, one that apparently had to come from Earth.

"What are you doing?" Charlie asked him, even while his curious eyes leaned over to see.

Meredith pushed the tablet over between them and on it Charlie saw several screens, One had a program running, another a list of perpetually changing data points, and another a screen that could almost be a video except it showed image through movement rather than any kind of video lens.

"Atlantis' sensors work as a serious of various energy waves. Enough to tell us life signs and other such rudimentary information, but I've been working on a new program that will fine tune them to the point of giving us an image."

"Like a sonar," Charlie realized with fascination. "The NSA have some bugs that use sound waves to generate image by calculating the echoes off of known objects."

"This is a little different in that it uses more than just sound waves. I'll have to show you the new kind of energy waves we have on file now."

Charlie easily agreed. There was a lot he wanted Mere to show him. The person in the screen was currently walking down a hallway. There was no color, but the outline was perfectly clear and the various depths were clearly marked by a matching gray scale, giving the person an impression of real substance. "Who is it?"

"Sheppard. Want to see your brother? I've already got him tagged in the system."

And before Charlie could object, Mere had changed the screen to show a room with several people in it. But Charlie's keen eyes easily picked out his brother among the crowd. Completely fascinated, they watched the screen as they talked and ate. He was so consumed in their conversation that Charlie didn't realize Don was in the mess hall until he was standing over their shoulders. And even then Charlie didn't _really_ realize it till he noticed himself in the screen.

He felt a nudge in his ribs by Mere and guiltily blinked up at Don. His brother just frowned down at him in confusion, to which Mere was sniggering over. "Hi Don, what's up?"

Don continued to frown at them and Charlie fidgeted even harder, half pushing the guilty tablet away, hopefully out of sight. Then, with a small hopeless shake of his head, Don said, "We got a letter from Dad."

"Really? Where?" But then the tablet was pushed back under his nose, its incriminating screen replaced by an open email.

Charlie grabbed it, his eyes hungrily reading every word at least three times. When he was done he looked up to tell Don what Don had probably already read, but his brother was gone again. Charlie looked around, seeing him just in time as he left.

"So, Charlie, what does it say?" Mere prodded.

Charlie could help it, he grinned. "They miss me."

For a moment Meredith played with his fork, and then he hesitantly asked, "Do you think they'd miss you a lot if you stayed here?"

"What?" The question took Charlie completely by surprise and he turned in his seat to face his childhood friend. "You want me to stay?"

"Come on, Charlie, this is where you belong! A mind like yours, and mine, we could make so many technological leaps," Mere exclaimed, his eyes actually pleading.

Charlie shook his head, astounded. "I not an engineer or a physicist like you. I'm just a mathematician."

"And that makes us the perfect team!"

To hear it made Charlie's heart soar. To be part of a team, just like how he felt like part of Don's team sometimes. But a moment later he knew he couldn't do it. No matter how much he might want to. If he stayed, he couldn't be part of Don's team anymore. And what about Amita? Or Larry? Or his students? Or his dad? He wasn't some kid with his whole like ahead of him anymore, he had a life, and he like it.

Meredith's face fell even as Charlie fought with his own emotions. "You can't stay, can you?"

Charlie just shook his head, surprised to find his throat too constricted to talk.

In a very decisive motion, Meredith stood up, briskly stating, "Well, then, we're just going to have to make the most of your time here."

Still unable to talk, Charlie could only follow, and then listen as Mere took him on a much much more in-depth tour of the City. A tour only a scientist could really appreciate. One filled with numbers.

He was really going to miss this place.

x.x.x.x.x

Leaning against the railing, Don looked out over Atlantis. As far as alien cities went, it was by far the most beautiful and spectacular one he'd ever seen. Of course, it was the _only_ alien city he'd seen. Momentarily content, he drunk it all in, the smell of salt in the air, the faint sounds of waves crashing against the floating city's edges far below, and the faint murmur of the people inside the control tower as they went about their business. The city was far from full, but it felt so alive to Don it was hard to ignore.

And Charlie was happy here.

He couldn't deny it. It went far deeper than his reunion with a long lost friend. Don had seen changes in his brother he'd never even imagined before. As dangerous as this place could be, it was full of people just like Charlie. _Geniuses_.

He sighed, looking down at his hands, and then further down the length of the tower he stood on. There were other observation areas in the city, but this was the tallest, and had fast become Don's favorite.

As soon as he had become sure that nothing untoward would happen to Charlie, Don had made himself scarce. Taking the Colonels up on their offer to show him around, go over the base procedures, even spare with Mitchell. Although he'd been far more amused to watch Mitchell try sparing with those in Sheppard's team. Made Don glad they were some of the good guys.

Overall, he'd done everything he could to keep out of Charlie's way. First as the scientists confirmed Charlie's work, then as they ironed out the details of the test, even the test itself, which had been conducted by the Daedalus safely outside the Pegasus Galaxy, and then after as the scientists poured over the resulting successful data. But that had been almost five days ago, and Charlie still hadn't slowed down. Don always knew exactly where he'd find him. In a lab, working on…something. Several _somethings_ by the looks of things.

He worried that his brother was on some kind of math geek adrenalin rush, but he worried even more what might happen if he tried to take Charlie away from all that.

Don heard the operation sounds of the control room increase briefly as the door slid open and someone walked out. It was a large balcony and Don didn't have a monopoly on it so he just waited.

A moment later the person leaned on the balcony next to Don and he looked over to see Sheppard staring out over the city much the same as Don had been doing moments before. "You know," Sheppard stated slowly, "I think your brother's high jacked my scientist."

A smile curled at Don's lips as he felt much the same way in reverse. "Yeah." It still surprised Don that Sheppard actually let McKay go off world with him. It was obvious there was a close bond among his teammates, even as different as they were, but Don just couldn't see him doing the same thing. Charlie on a tactical mission? The very thought was laughable, and terrifying.

"Still trying to take it all in?" Sheppard asked, giving him a shred look.

Wryly, Don told him, "No offence, you have a beautiful city, but I'm ready to go home. I just don't think Charlie is."

Silent for a minute, Sheppard turned around, leaning back against the railing before he finally said, "In my experience, life never likes to wait for us to be ready."

Don couldn't disagree with that statement. He'd never planned to return to LA, had honestly intended to stay away from the city he grew up in a much as humanly possible. But when his mother had died, everything changed. For the worse, and then for the better.

"So what was it like your first time through the gate?" Don asked, remembering bits of the reports he'd read.

Sheppard laughed. "It was a nightmare! I was the guy no one wanted here. Well, no one but Elizabeth. You'd have like her." He paused as pain creased his eyes, but forcing another grin, he continued humorously, "Actually, I got blackmailed into coming."

"Yeah?" Don found that hard to believe.

"One minute I'm minding my own business, flying 'copters in Antarctica, keeping my nose clean, and in the next I'm learning about aliens, hidden bases, impending threats to Earth, intergalactic travel, and oh…apparently I'm some kind of freaky mutant!"

"The ATA Gene," Don guessed.

Nodding, Sheppard continued, but he was smiling, "All I did was sit down in a chair. That's it, and suddenly my life is completely turned around. I was basically told I could either walk through the gate to an unknown destination in an unknown galaxy with unknown baddies on what was likely a one way trip, under a commander who hated my guts…or be discharged."

Years ago, Don wouldn't have thought that such a hard decision, but if he'd ever had to leave the Bureau Don easily guessed he'd be completely lost. Being a Fed was who he was. "So how'd you decide?"

"I flipped a coin."

Don laughed, he couldn't help it.

Then Sheppard added with a frown, "To this day I'm still not convinced the coin was rigged. I flipped it like twenty times and it kept coming up the same."

"A statistic impossibility," Don agreed.

It was easy to talk to Sheppard. In many respects, they were a lot a like, but it still didn't resolve his problem. Then the door opened again and Mitchell came out to join them. "I just got word, Daedalus will be heading back tomorrow. Now that we have a couple extra ZPMs it's just a four day trip back."

Don acknowledged the news with a curt nod, but he didn't say anything. What _could_ he say? He might be ready to go, but Charlie wasn't. Would Charlie ever be ready to go home?

Likely reading his expression, Sheppard lightly offered, "We can send you back through the gate anytime. It doesn't have to be now."

But Don already knew the answer to his dilemma, he just didn't want to admit it. "Thanks, but I'm ready to go. If…if Charlie wants to stay, think there'd be a spot for him here?"

"There's a spot for both of you, if that was what you wanted," Sheppard immediately stated. "I've already talked to Carter about it, and we agree, your expertise could give us a new look at things."

Even Mitchell chimed in, agreeing with Sheppard, "And this isn't exactly your typical Military base. It's a city, with it's own laws and stuff."

Don shook his head. This wasn't just a city, and the last thing he needed was to be a cop here. But he knew that wasn't quite what Mitchell was getting at. "I appreciate the offer, but no, I need to get back to my own team." And that was the end of the discussion.

With one last look over his shoulder at the breathtaking landscape these people lived in, he smiled, realizing he might be ready to go home, but part of him was going to miss this, too. "I better go find Charlie, see what he says."

They let him leave without another word, and Don headed to the labs with a bit of reluctance. The last thing he wanted to do was force Charlie into a decision, but he knew breaking the news that he was leaving wouldn't be easy on his brother either way.

As Don had expected, Charlie was in the lab, head bent over a table with McKay and Zelenka as they went over the math and plans of some new idea of there's. Word was, there'd been a lot of new ideas coming out of this lab of late. Don was hesitant to break it up, but he cleared his throat anyway. All three heads looked up, and then went right back down, their voices carrying far enough for Don to know he didn't have a hope in Hell of understanding what they were talking about.

He cleared his throat again, this time saying, "Hey, Charlie, can I have a word?"

This time Charlie actually turned around. "Sure Don, what is it?"

Don motioned with his head and his brother followed him to a corner of the near empty room. Don couldn't help but notice the sudden worry showing up on McKay's face. Inwardly, Don sighed.

"Don?" Charlie asked, his face scrunching up in questioning concern.

"The Daedalus is going to be leaving tomorrow," Don told him, deciding on the direct approach.

"What? Already? We just got here!" Charlie exclaimed, and Don was sure to his genius brother they _had_ just gotten there, but in reality, it had been over a week.

"You don't have to go."

"What about you?" Charlie asked, looking even more confused than before.

"I'm going, but you don't have to go," Don repeated, seeing Charlie's eyes glisten with comprehension as he took in the full implications of was Don was trying to say.

"I…" Charlie looked away, back to the others who were watching, waiting for Charlie to return. McKay's face had turned pained and Don knew the physicist had guessed what the brothers were talking about. Then Charlie looked back, a sigh on his lips, but his face set with determination. "I guess I better get packed."

"Charlie, are you sure?" Don asked, having expected the opposite reaction from his brother. "I know how much you like it here. These are your kind of people, and you can use your talents here unlike anyway you can at CalSci, or for the FBI."

Pain suddenly creased Charlie's face, and he quietly asked, "I thought you liked me helping you out?"

"Ya, of course I do. I'm not saying I don't. It's just here, with all this alien…stuff…" Don suddenly found himself feeling very confused. Over the last few days he'd become so sure that this was where Charlie would want to be. "I thought you loved it here."

"I do!" Charlie exclaimed, and then added with a smile, "But this isn't my home. At least, not right now it not."

"Oh. Well…" Now that he knew his brother would be going back with him, Don wasn't nearly so apprehensive, of going or of staying. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting the tension just fall away. "We could always stay a few more days and just take the stargate back," he suggested lightly.

Charlie positively beamed at him.

x.x.x.x.x

Rodney furiously wrote across the whiteboard. It was ironically reminiscent of the previous month, without perhaps so much chaos, but once again, he found himself burying himself in the equations.

When he saw Sheppard walk in, Rodney didn't bother to give the Colonel more than a glance, snapping out, "What do you want, Colonel, I'm busy!"

"I thought I'd find you in here," Sheppard said, blatantly ignoring him. Rodney just wrote that much harder, the press of his hand bending the marker. "Hey, you know they're about to leave, you should come say good-bye."

"I've got to get this done first," Rodney stated with a scowl. "My time is very important. I can't be expected to just leave this work unfinished." But his mind wasn't very focused on the math. Not wanting Sheppard to know, he kept writing anyway, letting his hand put down on the board the first expression that came to mind.

"Rodney," Sheppard drawled out with reproach.

His hand stopped moving. Rodney practically glowered at it in accusation, as if it were his hand's fault he couldn't think.

"Rodney," Sheppard said again. "I know you're going to miss him, but you can't sulk in here. It's not right. You owe it to him and yourself to at least say goodbye."

"I know," Rodney snapped, and then in a complete betrayal of his feelings, whined, "I know." With a sigh he lowered his hand, forcing his eyes away from the math to meet Sheppard's gaze. "Why does he have to go at all? I mean, can't Charlie see how much more use he could be here? With us? In Atlantis? He's just going to waste on Earth." Rodney knew he was sounding like a petulant child, but he didn't care.

"They were here an extra four days."

"That doesn't count," Rodney immediately shot down. "They'd have gotten back at the same time even if they'd taken the Daedalus."

With a sudden rise of anger, Rodney raised his hand again to focus on the board, but stopped short when Sheppard chastised him. "Rodney. Charlie's your friend. And the only person I've ever met who you don't _argue_ with, which I think says something. Don't let him leave without personally sending him off."

Rodney bit his lip. He knew Sheppard was right, and more than anything he wanted the chance to say goodbye to Charlie, he just didn't want to say goodbye at all. "Yeah, okay." He capped the damaged marker and slowly followed Sheppard out.

"It's not like you guys can't keep in touch," Sheppard said, giving him a worried look.

"It's not the same," Rodney argued. Sheppard wouldn't understand, but, "Do you know when I first met Charlie I absolutely hated his guts? Here was this kid, a year younger than me and two grades ahead. His parents had started him with tutors from the age of four, and mine, well," Rodney grimaced, "I think mine just didn't know what to do with me. I completely resented him and his perfect life. And then we started talking and suddenly, here was a kid about my age who not only talked like I did but also _understood_ the same things I did. I wasn't the only one anymore. You have no idea what that's like as a kid."

"I may not be a genius, but I know what it's like to feel left out," Sheppard remarked, and then curiously asked, "How old were you?"

Rodney grinned. "Ten. It was the best two years of camp I'd ever had."

John frowned at him the way he did when he didn't understand something. "And you never kept in touch?"

Rodney just shrugged. "We were kids, and technology wasn't what it's like today. There wasn't the world wide web back then. Plus, I'd already started working for the CIA."

Sheppard made another face that made Rodney smile with pride, but then they were in the control tower and there was everyone waiting in front of the stargate. Charlie looked up, his face lighting up with a gigantic smile. For all his trepidation, Rodney found himself grinning back.

"Well, you got everything?" He asked as they joined the group.

"Didn't really come with much," Charlie laughingly replied. And then suddenly he was hugging Rodney. "I'm going to miss you, Meredith. This has been one of the most amazing trips I've ever been on."

"Are you sure you want it to end?" Rodney asked, his voice tight with emotion but unable to resist asking just one more time.

Charlie's smile never faltered. "Next time you're on Earth you'll have to drop by and meet everyone. I'll get dad to make his special roasted chicken pie."

"No lemons," Rodney quickly reminded.

Vaguely, Rodney was aware of Sheppard and the others saying goodbye to Charlie's brother, and then the order was giving to dial the gate. He emblazed Charlie's reaction to the gate opening in his mind, happy to see that none of the excitement had left his friend's face. Looking at the pool of blue, Rodney gave Charlie a sad smile. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Is this ever it?" Charlie asked in a surprising philosophical manner, and then said more seriously, "I'll come back someday."

"Goodbye, Charlie."

"Goodbye, Mere."

And then Charlie was gone. The gate closed, and everyone else slowly walked off, once again returning to the daily routines that existed in Atlantis. Rodney just stared at the wall through the gate, through where Charlie had gone.

"You okay, buddy?" Sheppard cautiously asked, touching his arm.

Rodney's throat was tight, his chest felt heavy, and he eyes burn suspiciously with tears, but Rodney sharply turned, stating matter of fact, "Of course I am. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do."

"Yeah," Sheppard completely agreed. "I'm gonna miss them, too."

x.x.x.x.x

Charlie was getting impatient. It was a full day since they'd returned to Earth, and they were still stuck inside the SGC. Now that he was back and the excitement had dwindled down, he was anxious to get back home. To see his dad, and Amita, and his office…there must be a layer of dust on everything by now.

The SGC's General Landry had met them when they came back, along with an IOA representative that reminded Charlie of one of his old English professors, English not being one of his favorite subjects. But Woolsey had keenly pushed to be allowed to debrief them. That was where Don was now. Still. Charlie wasn't sure if he was more surprised or annoyed to find they wanted to talk to Don more than him, but after a day of having nothing to do, he reasoned he was just bored.

Charlie laughed at the thought, thinking this must have been how Don felt while they were on the Daedalus. Cameron had come back with them, and assuring Charlie that the long interviews with Don was nothing to worry about, had tried to take his mind off things by introducing him to the rest of his team, Teal'c, Daniel, and Vala. And for a while all the different things Cameron's team showed him had fascinated Charlie, but now he was just anxious.

When at last Don emerged he looked tired and just as anxious to go. "What is it with those guys, they're worse than being up in front of a Review Board," Don full out gripped to Cameron.

The Colonel just shrugged. "They like to think they're the ones saving the world."

Don made a noise that showed exactly what he thought of that.

Then had followed another meeting with the General, but it wasn't anything serious. He had wanted to officially thank them for their help, and extend an open invitation for them to return anytime they were ready.

And then at last, they were finally allowed to leave. Cameron drove them personally to the airport where they boarded a plan for LA, just like any other normal person. When they sat down, first class, courtesy of the Air Force, Charlie finally let himself relax. "I can't believe we're back."

"I can't believe I didn't have to drag you back kicking and screaming," Don remarked with half a smile.

Charlie shot him a glare but his smile soon returned. "I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable of self-restraint."

Don just laughed. "Yeah, admit it. You're already miss it."

Charlie did, but he wasn't about to say that. "Maybe a little." His brother just laughed some more and Charlie reflected on how good it felt to hear Don laugh. That was the real sign they were home.

x.x.x.x

Anxiously, Alan waited right outside the terminal gate. If it weren't so immoral, he'd have had Megan use her badge so they could wait outside the plane's gate. As the minutes dragged on he was still considering it. Megan and Amita were waiting with him, and from the way they sat on the edge of the seats he knew they were just as anxious as he.

Earlier that morning Alan had received a call from the mysterious Colonel Mitchell to tell him the plane his sons were flying in on. He hadn't wasted any time in getting here, and now he was back to what he always seemed to be doing. Waiting.

Then, at last, he spotted the heads of his sons among the crowd. And the moment they saw him their faces lit up. "Dad!" Charlie actually called out, rushing forward and pushing his way through the gate exit as quickly as possible.

Alan was up and embracing his son as soon as he reached them. "Charlie! Doing okay? Did you have a good time? I'm so glad to see you!"

Charlie laughed at Alan's exuberance, but Alan still had to critically look over his son to ensure he really was there and uninjured. "I'm fine, dad. I missed you, too."

As soon as he let go of Charlie, Amita took her turn, saying nothing but instead grabbing Charlie and leaning in for a deep and long overdue kiss. Charlie seemed surprised at first but then leaned right back, their arms entwining as they quickly forgot anyone else was there.

"I guess that's to be expected," Don remarked, looking at the love locked pair. Then, with a casual grin, greeted. "Hey, dad. You doing okay?"

"Better than okay now that my boys are home!" Alan stated, and ignoring his eldest son's tendency to look the macho man, gruffly gave Don a tight hug.

Don easily reciprocated, and after they separated he turned to the patiently waiting Megan. "How's the team?"

"Good. We've got a new stack of cases."

"Not until they've had at least one night at home!" Alan quickly argued.

"I wouldn't dream of pulling him away already, Alan," Megan quickly soothed. And then she grinned, saying emphatically to Don, "I'm glad you're back, boss."

He grinned. "Me, too."

Then they all looked pointedly at the pair still kissing. "Hey, you two," Don friendly chastised, "Get a room!"

"Better yet," Alan suggested, "Why don't we take them back to _their_ room."

At last the two lovers broke apart, and Charlie questioned, "Our room?"

Amita just grinned at him, saying suggestively, "You know how we were talking about the possibility of me moving in? Well, I kind of did while you were gone."

He actually gave a small sort of drunken laugh. The sight made Alan warm all over and for the first time in over a month he finally felt like things were okay again. "Let's grab your bags."

"What you see is what we have," Don remarked, looking down at the strange black clothes he was dressed in with a wry smile. They headed for the doors. As they walked, Don asked with a curious expression, "Dad, do you remember anyone named Meredith is Charlie's life?"

Alan thought about it with a frown, and quickly came up with one memory. "Ah, yes, from his time at Math Camp. She was some girl Charlie had a crush on."

Charlie looked horrified, sputtering out, "I did not have a crush!"

"Yes, I'm fairly sure you did. You wouldn't stop talking about her the whole month after you got back. A father knows these things, Charlie."

Alan frowned at his sons. Charlie still looked like he was going to have coronary, and Don was cracking up so hard he was practically doubled over. "What?"

Still laughing, Don told him, "I got to meet _him_ while we were there."

"Him?"

"Yeah dad. Meredith is a guy."

"Oh."

Charlie swatted his brother on the arm, but Don's mirth didn't cease. The news was a bit of a shock to Alan, but he was glad to see their recently grown friendship hadn't suffered in their absence.

Just what had happened to his boys while they were gone? Somehow he doubted he would ever know. And as long as they didn't have to leave home again, he figured that was fine with him.

End.


End file.
